ï~~OF A SIMPLE SOCIETY.

333

himself. In all other respects, he is as free as he was
before.
3. Inasmuclh as the Cormation of a society involves the
idea of a moral obligation, each party is under moral obligation to fulfil its part of the contr ict. The society is
bound to do what it has promised to every individual, and
every individual is bound to do what he has promised to
the society. If either party cease to do this, the compact,
like any other mutual contract, is dissolved.
4. Inasmuch as every individual is, in all respects ex.
cepting those in which he has bound himself, as free as lihe
was befo-e, the society has no right to impose upon the
md vidual any other obligation than those under which he
has placed himself. For, as he has come under no such
obligation to them, they have no more control over him
than any other men. And, as their whole power is limited
'o that which has been conferred upon them by individuals,
a:,.yond this limit, they are no society; they have no
power; their act is really out of the society, and is, of course,
binding upon no member of the society, any more than
upon any other man.
5. As every member of the society enters it upon the
same terms, that is, as every one comes under the same
obligations to the society, and the society comes under the
same obligations to him, they are, by consequence, so far
as the society is concerned, all equals or fellows.  All
have equal rights, and all are subject to the same obligations.
6. That which defines the obligations under which the
individual and the society have come, in respect to each
other, is called the constitution of the soe'ety. It is intended to express the object of the association, and the manner
in which that object is to be accomplished: that is to say,
it declares what the individual promises to do for the society,
what the society promises to do for the individual, and the
object for which this association between the parties is
formnned.
7. As the union of individuals in this manner is voluntary,
every member naturally has a right to dissolve the connection when hlie pleases" and the society have also a cor




ï~~Entered according to Act of Congress, in tne year 1835,
Br FRANCIS WAYLAND,
i ti Distr ft Clerk's Office of the District Court of Rhode Island.




ï~~PREFACE.

IN presenting to the public a new treatise upon
Moral Science, it may not be improper to state
the circumstances which led to the undertaking,
and the design which it is intended to accomplish.
When it became my duty to instruct in Moral
Philosophy, in Brown University, the text-book
in use was the work of Dr. Paley. From many
of his principles I found myself compelled to dissent, and, at first, I contented myself with stating
to my classes my objections to the author, and
offering my views, in the form of familiar conversations, upon several of the topics which he discusses. These views, for my own convenience,
I soon committed to paper, and delivered, in the
form of lectures. In a few years, these lectures
had become so far extended, that, to my surprise,
they contained, by themselves, the elements of a
different system from that of the text-book which
I was teaching. To avoid the inconvenience of
teaching two different systems, I undertook to
reduce them to order, and to make such additions, as would render the work in some measure
complete within itself. I thus relinquished the
work of Dr. Paley, and, for some time, have
1*




ï~~4

PREFACE.

been in the habit of instructing solely by lecture.
The success of the attempt exceeded my expectations, and encouraged me to hope, that the
publication of what I had delivered to my classes,
might, in some small degree, facilitate the study
of moral science
From these circumstances the work has derived its character. - Being designed for the purposes of instruction, its aim is, to be simple, clear,
and purely didactic. I have rarely gone into extended discussion, but have contented myself
with the attempt to state the moral law, and the
reason of it, in as few and as comprehensive
terms as possible.. The illustration of the principies, and the application of them to cases in ordinary life, I have.generally left to the instructor,
or to the student himself. Hence, also, I have
omitted every thing which relates to the history
of opinions, and have made but little allusion
even to the opinions themselves, of those from
whom   I dissent. To have acted otherwise,
would have extended the undertaking greatly heyond the limits which I had assigned to myself;
and it seemed to me not to belong to the design
which I had in view. A work which should attempt to exhibit what was true, appeared to me
more desirable than one which should point out
what was exploded, discuss what was doubtfiul,
or disprove what was false.
In the course of the work, I have quoted but
few authorities, as, in preparing it, I have referred to but few books. I make this remark in no
manner for the sake of laying claim to originality,
'ut t avoid the imputation of using the labors of




ï~~PR ] ACE

others without acKnowledgment When I corn
menced the undertaking, I attempted to read extensive y, but soon found it so difficult to arrive
at any definite results, in this manner, that the
necessities of my situation obliged me to rely
upon my own reflection. That I have thus come
to the same conclusions with many others, 1
should be unwilling to doubt. When this coincidence of opinion has come to my knowledge, I
have mentioned it. When it is not mentioned, it
is because I have not known it.
The author to whom I am under the greatest
obligations is Bishop Butler. The chapter on
Conscience is, as I suppose, but little more than
a development of his ideas on the same subject.
How much more I owe to this incomparable writer, I know not. As it was the study of his sermons on human nature, that first turned my attention to this subject, there are, doubtless, many
trains of thought which I have derived from him,
but which I have not been able to trace to their
source, as they have long since become incorporated with my own reflections. The article on
the Sabbath, as is stated in the text, is derived
chiefly from the tract of Mr. J. J. Gurney, on the
same subject. Entertaining those Views of the
Sacred Scriptures, which I have expressed in the
work itself, it is scarcely necessary to add here,
that I consider them the great source of moral
truth; and that a system of ethics will be true,
just in proportion as it develops their meaning.
To do this has been my object; and to have, in
ever so humble a manner, accomplished it, I shall
consider as the greatest possible success.




ï~~PREFACE.

It is not without much diffidence, that I have
ventured to lay before the public a work on this
important subject  That something of this sort
was needed, has long been universally confessed.
My professional duty led me to undertake it;
and I trust that the hope of usefulness has induced me to prepare it for publication. If I
have not been so happy as to elucidate truth, 1
have endeavored to express myself in such a
manner, that the reader shall have as little trouble as possible in detecting my errors. And if
it shall be found, that I have thrown any light
whatever upon the science of human duty, I shall
have unspeakable cause for gratitude to that
Spirit, whose inspiration alone teacheth man understanding. And my cause for gratitude will
scarcely be less, should my failure incite some
one, better able than myself to do justice to the
subject to a more successful undertaking.
Biowi JUNIVERSITY, April, 1835.




ï~~PREFACE
TO THE
SEC( ND EDITION.
A SECOND edition of the Elements of Moral
Science having been demanded, within a much
shorter period than was anticipated, I have given
to the revisal of it all the attention which my
avocations have permitted.m
The first edition, owing to circumstances
which could not be foreseen, was, unfortunately,
in several places, inaccurate in typographical execution. I have endeavored, I hope with better
success, to render the present edition, in this
respect, less liable to censure. In a few cases,
single words and modes of expression have also
been changed. I have, however, confined myself
to verbal corrections, and have, in no case that I
remember, intentionally altered the sense.
Having understood that the work has been
introduced, as a text-book, into some of our
highest seminaries of education, I hope that I
may be forgiven, if I suggest a few hints as to
the manner in which I suppose it may be most
successfully used for this purpose.




ï~~8

PREFACE.

1. In the recitat on room, let neither instructor
nor pupil ever make use of the book.
2. Let the portion previously assigned for the
exercise, be so mastered by the pupil, both in
plan and illustration, that he will be able to recite it in order, and explain the connection of the
different parts with each other, without the necessity of assistance from his instructor. To give
the language of the author is not, of course,
desirable. It is sufficient if the idea be given.
The questions of the instructor should have
respect to principles that may be deduced from
the text, practical application of the doctrines,
objections which may be raised, &c.
3. Let the lesson which was recited on one
day, be invariably reviewed on the day succeeding.
4. As soon as any considerable progress has
been made in the work, let a review from the
beginning be commenced. This should comprehend, for one exercise, as much as had been
previously recited in two or three days; and
should be confined to a brief analysis of the
argument, with a mere mention of the illustrations.
5. As soon as the whole portion thus far recited, has been reviewed, let a new review be
commenced, and continued in the same manner;
and thus on successively, until the work is completed. By pursuing this method, a class will,
at any period of the course of study, be enabled,
with the slightest effort, to recall whatever they
have already acquired; and when the work is
completed, they will be able to pursue the whole




ï~~PREFACE.

9

thread of the argument, from the beginning to
the end; and thus to retain a knowledge, not
only of the individual principles, but also of their
relations to each other.
But the advantage of this mode of study is
not confined to that of a more perfect knowledge of this or of any other book. By presenting the whole field of thought at one view before the mind, it will cultivate the power of
pursuing an extended range of argument; of
examining and deciding upon a connected chain
of reasoning; and will, in no small degree, accustom the student to carry forward in his own
mind a train of original investigation.
I have been emboldened to make these suggestions, not in the least because I suppose the
present work worthy of any peculiar attention
from an instructor, but simply because, having
been long in the habit of pursuing this method,
and having witnessed its results in my own
classes, I have thought it my duty to suggest it
to those who are engaged in the same profession
with myself. Other instructors may have succeeded better with other methods. I have succeeded best with this.
At the suggestion of some of his friends, the
author has it in contemplation to prepare a small
abridgment of the present work, in duodecimo,
for the use of schools and academies. It will
be published as soon as his engagements will
permit.
BaowN UNIVERSITY, September, 1835.




ï~~PREFACE
TO THE
FOURTH EDITION.
THE publishers having thought proper to give to the
Elements- of Moral Science a more permanent form, I
have revised the work with all the care that my engagements would allow. In doing this, I have made many
verbal alterations; I have modified some paragraphs; some
I have transposed, and a few I have added.
I embrace, with pleasure, this opportunity of returning
my grateful acknowledgments to those gentlemen who,
either privately or through the medium of the press, have
favored me with their critical remarks. I have endeavored
to weigh their suggestions with all the impartiality in my
power. Where I have been convinced of error, I have
altered the text. Where I have only doubted, I have suffered it to remain; as it seemed profitless merely to exchange
one doubtful opinion for another. Where, notwithstanding the
arguments advanced, my views remained unchanged, I have
also contented myself with allowing the text to stand without additional remark. The reasons for so doing may be
very briefly stated:-I supposed that those considerations
in favor of what I had advanced, which occurred to me,
would naturally occur to any other person; and I seem to
myself to have observed that the public really take very
little interest in the controversies of authors. A very considerable amount of manuscript, which I had prepared for
the purpose of publication, in connection with this edition, I
have therefore suffered to lie quietly in my desk.
BROWN UNIVERSITY, January 1837




ï~~CONTENTS
AND
PLAN OF THE WORK.
BOOK, FIRMST.
THEORETICAL ETHIC S.
CHAPTER FIRST.
rage.
OF THE ORIGIN OF OUR NOTION OF THE MORAL QUALITY OF
ACTIONS.................................................... 23
SECTION I.
s
f,Moral Law............................,............ 23
Of law in general,.................................... 23
Of moral law.......................................... 24
SECTION II.
What is a moral ActionQ.................................. 26
Of action...................................,........ 26
Of moral action....................................... 29
SECTION IIIL
In wkat part of an Afction do we discover its moral Quality?...30
The intention..........................................31
When is intention wrong?.............................. 31
SECTION IV.
Whence do we derive our Notion of the moral Quality of Actions?.. 33
Is it a modification of any other idea?...................... 33 3
is it an exercise of the judgment?.......................
2.




ï~~12                       CONTENTS.
Page.
Is it derived from association?.............................. 35
Is it derived from the idea of the greatest amount of happiness? 36
General view of the subject,............................... 44
CHAPTER SECOND.
CONSCIENCE, OR THE MORAL SENSE,..................... 49
SECTION I.
Is there a Conscience....................................... 49
Question considered,..................................... 50
Objections answered......................................  50
SECTION II.
Of the Mlanner in which the Decision of Conscience is expressed,... 53
Its discriminating power,................................. 53
Its impulsive power,.................................. 54
A source of pleasure or of pain,.............................. 56
Illustrations,.............................................  57
SECTION Ill.
The. Authority of Conscience,................................ 59
From the conceptions which we form of it,................... C0
By a comparison of the actions of men and inferior animals,... 61
From the necessity of this supremacy to the accomplishment of
its  object,..............................................  63
SECTION IV.
Law by which Conscience is governed,..........f................ 71
As a discriminating power,............................... 72
As an impulsive power,.................................. 74
As a source of pleasure or pain,........................... 76
SECTION V.
Rules for moral Conduct....................................  71
CHAPTER THIRD.
TuHE NATURE OF VIRTUE,....................................
- SECTION I.
Of Virtue in general,........................................85
SECTION II.
Of Virtue in imperfect Beings,............................ 88
Limit of moral obhligation,................................. 89
Moral relations of habit,.................................. 96




ï~~CONTENTS.                         13
CHAPTER FOURTH.
Page.
I-UMAN HAPPINESS,...................................... 99
The gratification of desire.....:..........................  99
Within limits,................................................. 101
CHAPTER FIFTH.
Or  SELF-LOVE.............................................. 104
Nature of self-love,....................................... 104
Its relative  rank,..........................................  107
CHAPTER SIXTH.
IMPERFECTION OF CONSCIENCE; NECESSITY OF       SOME ADDITIONAL MORAL LIGHT,.................................. 11]
Imperfection of conscience,................................ 111
Necessity of additional light,............................  113
What light might be expected,............................. 115
CHAPTER SEVENTH.
OF NATURAL RELIGION,......................................  118
SECTION I.
Of the Manner in which we learn our Duty by the Light of Nature, 118
From general consequences,............................... 119
Objection considered,..................................... 122
SECTION II.
How far we may learn our Duty by the Light of Nature,.......... 126
Knowledge acquired in this manner,........................ 125
Motives which it presents,................................. 127
SECTION III.
Defects of the System of Natural Religion,........................ 129
From  facts,.............................................  129
From the nature of the case,............................ 131
CHAPTER EIGHTH.
RELATIONS BETWEEN NATURAL AND REVEALED RELIGION,.... 134
What expectations to be entertained,....................... 134
These are realized by revelation,............................ 135
CHAPTER NINTH.
THE HOLY     CRIPTURES,.................................. 1.39




ï~~14                      CONTENTS
SECTION I.
hP
A View of the Holy Scriptures,............. 1%$
The Old Testament................................... 139
The New Testament................................... 141
SECTION IL.
In what Mlanner are we to ascertain our Duty by thle Holy Scrip
tures P............................................ 142
What is excluded..................................... 144
What is included..................................... 145
Our means of moral instruction.......................... 147
BOOK SECOND.
PRA-CTICAL ETHICS.
PART FIRST.
LOVE TO GOD, OR. PIETY.
CHAPTER FIRST.
GI~aERAL OBLIGATION TO SUREMEs LOVE TO GOD........... 155i
Relation between God and Man,......................... 152
Rights and obligations arising from this relation,............ 154
These suited to our nature,.............................. 163
CHAPTER SECOND.
OADiEVOI iNAL SPIRIT........................165
CHAPTER THIRD.
)r PRAYER................................................... 170
Nature of prayer...................................... 170
Kinds of prayer,....;................................  171
Duty of prayer,......................................L172
it     a   from our condition...*....................001x72
it     I   from the Scriptures........................ 173
The uWility of prayer,..............:..................  175




ï~~CONTENTS.

15

CHAPTER FOURTH.
P'age.
OBSERVANCE OF THE SABBATH................................ 178
Original institution of the Sabbath,........................ 178
The-Mosaic Sabbath,...................................181
The Christian Sabbath,................................. 183
The day to be observed,..............................00004183
The manner of its observance,........................... 186
Duty of magistrates in respect to it,................a 0...88
PART SECOND.
DUTIES TO MAN.
DIVISION FIRST.-RECIPROCITY.
DIVISION SECOND.-BENEVOLENCE.
DIVISION FIRST.
RECIPROCITI.
GENERAL PRINCIPLES ILLUSTRAT'ED, AND THE DUTIES OF RzCIPROCITY CLASSIFIED..................................... 190
Nature of human equality,.............................00*190
Suectin illustrated..................................... 191
T eaching of the 6Scr0ptu0es,...........................194
Classification of the duties of reciprocity,................. 196
CLASS FIRST.
JUSTICE AND VERACITY.
OF JUSTICE.
CHAPTER FIRST.
PERSONAL LIBERTYZ........................................... 200
SECTION 1.
'Mature of personal Liberty,.....690 8000 006...................200
Physical Liberty........................................ 201
Intellectual Liberty......... os_....................... 202
Religious Liberty,....................................204
Exceptions.,......................................... 204
2*




ï~~16)                      CONTENTS.
SECTION II.
Page
Modes in which personal Liberty may be violated,............... 206
By the individual, as in domestic slavery,.................... 206
Its nature and  effects.............................  207
Doctrine of the Scriptures,..................................... 209
Duties of masters,...................................... 214
Duties of slaves,.......................................  216
Personal liberty violated by society,........................ 216
Violation of physical liberty............................ 217
Violation of intellectual liberty.......................... 218
Violation of religious liberty,.......................... 225
CHAPTER SECOND.
JUSTICE AS IT RESPECTS PROPERTY,.*.............................229
SECTION I.
The Right of Property,...................................... 229
Definition,.......................................... 229
On what the right of property is founded,...................229
Modes in which the right of property may be acquired,........ 232
SECTION II.
Modes in which the Right of Property may be violated by the Individual,................................................  236
Without consent,-1. Theft. 2. Robbery,................... 237
By consent fraudulently obtained,.......................... 238
(a.) Where no equivalent is offered,........................, 238
(b.) Where the equivalent is different from what it purports to
be,..................................................  2 3
1. Where the equivalent is material, and the transfer perpetual,
The law of buyer and seller,........................;
2. When the transfer is temporary,.........................
Interest or loan of money,....................;
Loan of other property,..........................
Insurance,................................................
3. Where the equivalent is immaterial,..................... 2I
Of master and servant,................................. 2. )
Of principal and agent,................................. 50
Of representatives,................................... 15
SECTION III.
Right of Property as violated by Society,....................... 254
CHAPTER      THIRD.
JUSTICE AS IT RESPECTS CHARACTER,.........................258
Nature of the obligation,.................................. 258
Violated by weakening the moral restraints of men,........... 260
Violated by exciting their evil dispositions,................. 261




ï~~CONTENTS.                        17
CHAPTER FOURTH
Page
JUSTICE AS IT RESPECTS REPUTATION,....................... 264
Nature of tne obligation,................................. 264
Giving pub.icity to bad actions,............................  266
Unjust conclusions respecting character,.................... 267
Assigning bad motives unnecessarily,........................... 267
Ridicule and  mimicry,.................................... 268
Our duty to reveal the bad actions of others,.................. 271
Our duty to promote the ends of public justice............... 271
Our duty to protect the innocent, and for the good of the offender,...............................................  271
Duty of historians,...................................... 272
Duty  -f the public press,................................... 273
OF VERACITY.
CHAPTER      FIRST.
VERACITY OF THE PAST AND PRESENT,....................... 276
Law  of veracity,.........................................  276
W hat it forbids,..........................................   276
Necessity of such a law,................................... 279
CHAPTER SECQND.
VERACITY IN RESPECT TO THE FUTURE..................... -282
Of promises,.......................................... 282
Their intention and obligation,............................. 282
When promises are not binding,............................ 283
Of contracts,...........................................  285
CHAPTER THIRD.
OF  OATHS,..............................................  288
The theory of oaths,..................................* 288
Lawfulness of oaths,..................................290
Interpretation of oaths,.................................. 291
Different kinds of oaths,..................................  291
CLASS SECOND.
DITIES WHICH ARISE FROM THE CONSTITUTION OF THE SEXES,. 293
CHAPTER FIRST.
GENERAL DUTY OF CHASTITY,.............................. F9i
What this moral law forbids,.............................. 295
What it commands,---exclusive union,....................... 296
union for life,......................... 298
Precepts of religion on this subject,...................,.. 3. 0




ï~~18                       CONTENTS.
CHAPTER SECOND.
Pap
THE LAW OF MARRIAGE,.................................... 303
The nature of the contract,............................... 303
Duties imposed by the contract,........................... 306
Chastity,..............................................  306
Mutual affection,...................................... 307
Mutual assistance..................................... 308
Relation of parties as to authority................................ 309
CHAPTER THIRD.
THE LAW OF PARENTS,...................................... 312
Relation of the parties to each other,...................... 312
Duties of parents,........................................ 314
Support or maintenance,................................ 314
Physical education,................................... 315
Intellectual education,.................................. 316
Moral education,.......................................  318
Rights of parents,........................................ 322
Duration of these rights,................................. 322
Of instructors...........................................  323
CHAPTER FOURTH.
THE LAw OF CHILDREN,................................... 324
Duties of children,........................................ 324
Obedience,.......................................... 324
Reverence,............................................  326
Filial affection,........................................ 326
Necessary maintenance................................ 327
Rights of children,.......................................  327
Duration of these rights and obligations,..................... 327
Duties of pupils,..........................................  327
CLASS THIRD.
DUTIES TO MAN, AS A MEMBER OF CIVIL SOCIETY,........... 331
CHAPTER      FIRST.
OF CIVIL SOCIETY,.............................................. 332
SECTION 1.
Of a Simple Society,......................................... 332
Nature of the contract,................................. 332
Manner in which governed,............................."... 334
Limits of the power of a majority,......................... 334
Durability of corporations,......................................  335




ï~~CONTENTb.                          19
SECTION II
Page
Of  Cii. Society,..:.........................................  337
Civil society an institution of God,......................... 338
Conclusions from the above,.............................. 340
Of the nature and limitations of civil society,................. 342
Of what is essential to civil society,........................343
The compact entered into by the individual and scciety,....... 344
)f the accidental modifications of civil society.............. 348
CHAPTER SECOND.
OF THE MODE IN WHICH THE OBJECTS OF SOCIETY ARE AcCOMPLISHED,............................................ 351
The parts of a government,.................................. 352
What form of government is preferable,..................... 354
CHAPTER THIRD.
DUTIES OF THE OFFICERS OF A GOVERNMENT........,.......... 356
Of legislative officers,.................................... 356
Of judicial officers,....................................... 358
Of executive officers,...................................... 359
CHAPTER FOURTH
DUTIES OF CITIZENS,........................................ 361
As  individuals,........................................... 361
As constituent members of society,......................... 362
When the compact is violated,............................. 364
DIVISION SECOND.
THE LAW     OF BENEVOLENCE.
CHAPTER FIRST
GENERAL OBLIGATION, AND DIVISION OF THE SUBJECT,....... 367
Nature and proof of the obligation from our constitution,..... 367
Proof from the Holy Scriptures,...............,...........  369
CHAPTER SECOND.
BENEVOLENCE TO THE UNHAPPY,....................... 374
SECTION I.
Unhappiness from vhysical condition,..........................74
Objects of charity,..."...................... 374
Laws affecting the recipient,...........................375




ï~~20                      CONTENTS.
Patge
Laws affecting the benefactor,...........................376
Poor lawll...laws,...........................................37 7
Voluntary associations,.................................. 378
SECTION 11.
Unhappiness from intellectual condition,...................... 380
CHAPTER THIRD
BENEVOLENCE TO THE WICKED.............................. 384
CHAPTER FOURTH.
BENEVOLENCE TO THE INJURIOUS,............................ 0 0 0 *387
Injury committed by an individual against an individual,...387
Injury committed by an individual against society,.....aa......389
Injury conmnitted by a society against a society............... 390
OU  war,................................................ 390
NOTE.
LUugjr:ssg Brutes,................................*. 000009,396




ï~~BOOK FIRST.

THEORETICAL ETHICS.
CHAPTER         FIRST.. '.
OF THE ORIGIN OF OUR NOTION        OF THE MORAL
QUALITY OF ACTIONS.
SECTION I.
OF MORAL LAW.
ETHICS, or Moral Philosophy, is the Science of Moral
Law.
The first question which presents itself is, What is moral
law?  Let us then inquire, first, what is law; and, secondly
what is moral law.
By the term law, I think, we generally mean a form of
expression, denoting either a mode of existence, or an order
of sequence.
Thus, the first of Sir Isaac Newton's laws, namely, that
every body will continue in a state of rest, or of uniform
motion in a right line, unless compelled by some force to
change its state, denotes a mode of existence.
The third law of motion, that, to every action of one
oody upon another, there is an equal and contrary reaction,
denotes an order of sequence; that is, it declares the general fact, that, if one event occur, the constitution of things
under which we exist, is such, that another event will also
occur.
The axioms in Mathematics are laws of the same kind.




ï~~24

OF MORAL LAW.

Thus, the axiom, "if equals be added to equals, the wholes
will be equal," denotes an order of sequence, in respect to
quantity.
Of the same nature are the laws of Chemistry. Such,
for instance, is the law that, if soda be saturated with muri
atic acid, the result will be common salt.
Thus, also, in Intellectual Philosophy. If a picture of
a visible object be formed upon the retina, and the impression be communicated, by the nerves, to the brain, the
result will be an act of perception.
The meaning of law, when referring to civil society, is
substantially the same. It expresses an established order
of sequence between a specified action, and a particular
mode of reward or of punishment. Such, in general, is the
meaning of law.
Moral Philosophy takes it for granted that there is in
human actions a moral quality; that is, that a human action
may be either right or wrong. Every one knows that we
may contemplate the same action as wise or unwise; as
courteous or impolite; as graceful or awkward; and, also,
as right or wrong. It can have escaped the observation of
no one, that there are consequences distinct from each
other, which follow an action, and which are connected,
respectively, with each of its attributes.  To take, for
instance, a moral quality. Two men may both utter what
is false; the one intending to speak the truth, the other
intending to deceive. Now, some of the consequences of
this act are common to both cases, namely, that the hearers
may, in both cases, be deceived. But it is equally manifest, that there are also consequences peculiar to the casrt
in which the speaker intended to deceive; as, for example,
the effects upon his own moral character, and upon the
estimation in which he is held by the community. And
thus, in general, Moral Philosophy proceeds upon the supposition that there*exists in the actions of men a moral
quality, and that there are certain sequences connected by
our Creator with the exhibition of that quality.
A moral law is, therefore, a form of expression denoting
an order of sequence established between the moral quahlity
of actions, and their results.




ï~~OF MORAL LAW.

25

Moral Philosophy, or Ethics, is the science which classities an, illustrates moral law.
Here it may be worth while to remark, that an order of
sequence established, supposes, of necessity, an Establisher.
Hence Moral Philosophy, as well as every other science,
proceeds upon the supposition of the existence of a
universal cause, the Creator of all thing, who has made
every thing as it is. and who has subjected all things to the
relations which they sustain. And hence, as all relations,
whether moral or physical, are the result of His enactment,
an order of sequence once discovered in morals, is just as
nvariable as an order of sequence in physics.
Such being the fact, it is evident, that the moral laws of
-Tod can never be varied by the institutions of man, any.-ore than the physical laws. The results which God has.onnected with actions; will inevitably occur, all the created
power in the universe to the contrary notwithstanding.
Nor can these consequences be eluded or averted, any
more than the sequences which follow by the laws of gravitation. What should we think of a man who expected to
leap from a precipice, and, by some act of sagacity, elude
the effect of the accelerating power of gravity? or, of
another, who, by the exercise of his own will, determined
to render himself imponderable? Every one who believes
God to have established an order of sequences in morals,
must see that it is equally absurd, to expect to violate, with
impunity, any moral law of the Creator.
Yet men have always flattered themselves with the hope
that they could violate moral law, and escape the consequences which God has established. The reason is obvious.
In physics, the consequent follows the antecedent, often
immediately, and most commonly after a stated and well
'known interval. In morals, the result is frequently long
delayed; and the time of its occurrence is always uncertain.
Hence, "because sentence against an evil work is not executed speedily, therefore the hearts of the sons of men are
fully set min them to do evil." But time, whether long or
short, has neither power nor tendency to change the order
of an established sequence. The time required for vegetation, in different orders of plants, may Nary; but yet
3




ï~~2g

OF MORAL ACT ON.

wheat will alwys produce wheat, and an accrn will always
produce an oak. That such is the case in morals, a heathen
poet has taught us:
Raro, antecedentem scelestun
Deserrit, pede pcena claudo.
Hon. Lib. 3. Car. 2.
A higher authority has admonished us, "Be not deceived;
God is not mocked; whatsoever a man soweth, that shall
he also reap."  It is also to be remembered, that, in morals
as well as in physics, the harvest is always more abundant
than the seed from which it springs.
SECTION I1.
WHAT IS A MORAL ACTION?
Action, from actum, the supine of the Latin verb ago,
I do, signifies something done; the putting forth of some
power.
But under what circumstances must power be put forth,
in order to render it a moral action?
1. A machine is, in common conversation, said to be
powerful. A vegetable is said to put forth its leaves, a
tree to bend its branches, or a vine to run towards a prop
but we never speak of these instances of power, as actions.
2. Action is never affirmed, but of beings possessed of a
will; that is, of those in whom the putting forth of power
is immediately consequent upon their determination to put
it forth.  Could we conceive of animate beings, whose
exertions had no connection with their will, we should not
speak of such exertions as actions.
3. Action, so far as we know, is affirmed only of I emngs
possessed of intelligence; that is, who are capable of comprehending a particular end, and of adopting the means
necessary to accomplish it. An action is something done;
bat is, some change effected. -But man effects change,




ï~~OF MORAL ACTION.

only by means of stated antecedents. An action, therefore, in such a being, supposes some change in view, and:ome means employed for the purpose of effecting it.
We do not, however, affirm this as essential. Suppose
t being so constituted as to be able to effect changes without the use of means; action would then not involve the
necessity of intelligence, in the sense in which it is here
erxplained. All that would be necessary, would be the
previous conception of the change which he intended to
effect.
4. All this exists in man. He is voluntary and intelligent, capable of foreseeing the result of an exertion of
power, and that exertion of power is subject to his will.
This is sufficient to render man the subject of government. He can foresee the results of a particular action, and
can will, or not will, to accomplish it. And other results
can be connected with the action, of such a nature, as to
influence his will in one direction or in another. Thus, a
man may know that stabbing another will produce death.
He has it in his power to will or not to will it. But such
ther consequences may be connected by society with the
act, that, though on many accounts he would desire to do
it, yet, on other and graver accounts, he would prefer
not to do it. This is sufficient to render man a subject of
government. But is this all that is necessary to constitute
man a moral agent; that is, to render him a subject of
moral government?
May not all this be affirmed of brutes?  Are they not
voluntary, and even, to some extent, intelligent agents?
Do they not, frequently, at least, comprehend the relation
of means to an end, and voluntarily put forth the power
necessary for the accomplishment of that end? Do they
not manifestly design to injure us, and also select the most
appropriate means for effecting their purpose? And can
we not connect such results with their actions, as shall
influence their will, and prevent or excite the exercise of
their power?  We do this, whenever we caress or intimi
date them, to prevent them from injuring us, or to excite
them to labor. They are, then, subjects of government,
as truly as man




ï~~28

OF MORAL ACTION.

Is there, then, no difference between the intelligent and
voluntary action of a brute, and the moral action of a
man? Suppose a brute and a man both to perform the
same action; as, for instance, suppose the brute to kill its
offspring, and the man to murder his child. Are these
actions of the same character? Do we entertain the same
feelings towards the authors of them? Do we treat the
authors in the same manner, and with the design of producing in them the same result?
I think no one can answer these questions in the affirmative. We pity the brute, but we are filled with indig
nation against the man. In the one case, we say there
has been harm done; in the other, injury committed. We
feel that the man deserves punishment: we have no such
feeling towards the brute. We say that the man has done
wrong; but we never affirm this of the brute. We may
attempt to produce in the brute such a recollection of the
offence, as may deter him from the act in future; but we
can do no more. We attempt, in the other case, to make the
man sensible of the act as wrong, and to produce in him a
radical change of character; so that he not only would
not commit the crime again, but would be inherently averse
to the commission of it.
These considerations are, I think, sufficient to render it
evident, that we perceive an element in the actions of men,
which does not exist in the actions of brutes. What is
this element?
If we should ask a child, he would tell us that the man
knows better. This would be his mode of explaining it.
But what is meant by knowing better? Did not the
brute and the man both know that the result of their action
would be harm?   Did not both intend that it should be
harm? In what respect, then, did the one know better
tnan the other?
I think that a plain man or a child would answer, the
man knew that he oug it not to do it, and that the brute
did not know that he ought not to do it; or he might say,
the man knew, and the brute did not know, that it was
wrong: but whatever terms he might employ, they would




ï~~OF MORAL ACTION.

on

involve the same idea. I do not know that a philosopher
could give a more satisfactory answer.
If the question, then, be asked, what is a moral action?
we may answer, it is the voluntary action of an intelligent
agent, who is capable of distinguishing between right and
wrong, or of distinguishing what he ought, from what he
ought not, to do.
It is, however, to be remarked, that, although action is
defined to be the putting forth of power, it is not intended
to be asserted, that the moral quality exists only where
power is actually exerted. It is manifest, that our thoughts
and resolutions may be deserving either of praise or of
blame; that is, may be either right or wrong, where they
do not appear in action. When the 'vill consents to the
performance of an action, though the act be not done, the
omniscient Deity justly considers us as either virtuous or
vicious.
From what has been said, it may be seen that there
exists, in the actions of men, an element which does not
exist in the actions of brutes. Hence, though both are
subjects of government, the government of the one should
be constructed upon principles different from that of the
other. We can operate upon brutes only by fear of punishment, and hope of reward. We can operate upon man,
not only in this manner, but, also, by an appeal to his consciousness of right and wrong; and by the use of such
means as may improve his moral nature.     Hence, all
modes of punishment which treat men as we treat brutes,
are as unphilosophical as they are thoughtless, cruel and vindictive. Such are those systems of criminal jurisprudence,
which have in view nothing more than the infliction of
pain upon the offender. The leading object of all such
systems should be to reclaim the vicious. Such was tie
result to which all the investigations of Howard led. Such
is the improvement which Prison Discipline Societies ate
laboring to effect.
- And it is worthy of remark, that the Christian precept
respecting the treatment of injuries, proceeds precisely
upon this principle. The New Testament teaches us to
love our enemies, to do good to those that hate us, to over3*




ï~~30      IN WHAT PART OF AN ACTION DO WE
come evil with good; that is, to set before a man who does
wrong, the strongest possible exemplification of the opposite
moral quality, right. Now, it is manifest, that nothing
would be so likely to show to an injurious person the turpitude of his own conduct, and to produce in him selfreproach and repentance, as precisely this sort of moral
exhibition. Revenge and retaliation might, or might not,
prevent a repetition of the injury to a particular individual.
The requiting of evil witl good, in addition to this effect,
has an inherent tendency to produce sorrow for the act,
and dislike to its moral quality; and thus, by producing a
change of character, to prevent the repetition of the offence
under all circumstances hereafter.,
SECTION III.
P WHAT PART OF AN ACTION DO WE DISCOVER ITS MORAL
QUALITY?
In a deliberate action, four distinct elements may be
commonly observed. These are1. The outward act, as when I put money into the hamnds
of another.
2. The conception of this act, of which the externa
performance is the mere bodying forth.
3. The resolution to carry that conception into effect.
4. The intention, or design, with which all this is done.
Now, the moral quality does not belong to the external
act; for the same external act may be performed by two
men, while its moral character is, in the two cases, entirely
dissimilar.
Nor does it belong to the conception of the external act,
nor to the resolution to carry that conception into effect;
for the resolution to perform an action can have no other
character than that of the action itself. It must, then,
reside in the intention.




ï~~DIS DOVER ITS MORAL QUALITY

31

That such is the fact, may be illustrated by an example.
4 and B both give to C a piece of money. They both
conceived of this action before they performed it. They
both resolved to do precisely what they did. In all this,,oth actions coincide. A, however, gave it to C, with
the intention of procuring the murder of a friend; B, with
the intention of relieving a 'amily in distress. It is evident
that, in this case, the intention gives to the action its character as right or wrong.
That the moral quality of the action resides in the intention, may be evident from various other considerations.
1. By reference to the intention, we inculpate or exculpate others, or ourselves, without any respect to the happiness or misery actually produced. Let the result of an
action be what it may, we hold a man guilty simply on the
ground of intention, or, on the same ground, we hold him
innocent. Thus, also, of ourselves. We are conscious of
guilt or of innocence, not firom the result of an action, but
from the intention by which we were actuated.
2. We always distinguish between being the instrument
of good, and intending it. We are grateful to one who is
the cause of good, not in the proportion of the amount
effected, but of the amount intended.
Intention may be wrong in various ways.
As, for instance, first, where we intend to injure another,
as min cruelty, malice, revenge, deliberate slander.
Here, however, it may be remarked, that we may intend
to inflict pain, without intending wrong; for we may be
guilty of the violation of no right. Such is the case, when
pam is inflicted for the purposes of justice; for it is manifest, that, if a man deserve pain, it is no violation of right
to inflict it. Hence we see the difference between harm,
injury, and punishment. We harm another when we actually inflict pain; we injure him when we inflict pain in
violation of his rights; we punish him when we inflict pain
which he deserves, aryI to which he has been properly
adjudged-and, in so doing, there is, therefore, a violation
of no right.
2. Intention is wrong, where we act for the gratification
of our own passions, witl)ut any resr)ect to the happiness




ï~~32       IN WHAT PART OF AN ACTION, ETC.
of others. Such is the case of seduction, ambition, and, in
nations, commonly, of war. Every man is bound to restrain
the indulgence of his passions within such limits, that they
will work no ill to his neighbor. If they actually inflict
injury, it is no excuse to say that he had no ill will to the
individual injured. The Creator never conferred on him
the right to destroy another's happiness for his own gratification.
3. As the right and wrong of an action reside in the
intention, it is evident, that, where an action is intended,
though it be not actually performed, that intention is worthy
of praise or blame, as truly as the action itself, provided the
action itself be wholly out of our power. Thus God rewarded David for intending to build the temple, though he
did not permit him actually to build it. So, he who intends
to murder another, though he may fail to execute his purpose, is, in the sight of God, a murderer. The meditation
upon wickedness with pleasure, comes under the same condemnation.
4. As the right or wrong exists in the intention, wherever
a particular intention is essential to virtuous action, the
performance of the external act, without that intention, is
destitute of the element of virtue. Thus, a child is bound
to obey his parents, with the intention of thus manifesting
his love and gratitude. If he do it from fear, or from hope
of gain, the act is destitute of the virtue of filial obedience,
mnd becomes merely the result of passion or self-interest.
And thus our Savior charges upon the Jews the want of
the proper intention, in all their dealings with God. " I
know you," said he, "that ye have not the love of God in
you."
And, again, it is manifest, that our moral feelings, like
our taste, may be excited by the conceptions of our own
imagination, scarcely less than by the reality. These,
therefore, may develop moral character. He who meditates, with pleasure, upon fictions of pollution and crime,
whether originating with himself or with others, renders it
evident that nothing but opposing circumstances prevents
him from being himself an actor in the crime which he
loves. And still more, as the moral character of an action




ï~~WHENCE DO WE DERIVE OUR NOTION, ETC.      3,
resides in the intention, and a' whatever tends to coupt
the intention must be wrong, the meditating with pleasure
upon vice, which has manifestly this tendency, must be
wrong also.
And here let me add, that the imagination of man is the
fr fitful parent both of virtue and vice. Thus saith the
wise man, " Keep thy heart with all diligence, for out of it
are the issues of life."  No man becomes openly a villain,
until his imagination has become familiar with conceptions
of villany. The crimes which astonish us by their atrocity,
were first arranged, and acted, and reacted, in the recesses
of the criminal's own mind. Let the imagination, then, be
most carefully guarded, if we wish to escape from temptation, and make progress in virtue. Let no one flatter himself that he is innocent, if he love to meditate upon any
thing which he would blush to avow before men, or fear te
unveil before God.
SECTION IV.
WHENCE DO WE DERIVE OUR NOTION OF THE MORAL QUALITY
OF ACTIONS?
To this question several answers have been given.
Some of them we shall proceed to consider.
1. Is our notion of right and wrong a modification of any
other idea?
The only modifications of which an 'dea is susceptible,
are, fire, that of greater or less vividness of impression, or,
secondly, that of simplicity or of composition. Thus, the
quality of beauty may impress us more or less forcibly, in
the contemplation of different objects; or, on the other
hand, the idea of beauty may be simple, or else combines,
in our conceptions, with the idea of utility.
Now, =f our notion of right and wrong be a modification
of so ne  ther idea, in the first sense, then one degreeof




ï~~34

WHEN 3E DO WE DERIVE OUR NOTION OF

the orig nal quality will be destitute of any moral element
and another degree of it will possess a moral element; and
by ascending higher in the scale, it may at last lose all its
original character, and possess another, having no remains
of resemblance to itself.  This would be to say, that a
quality, by becoming more intense, ceased to be itself; as if
a triangle, by becoming more perfect as a triangle, at last
became a square. Thus, if it be said, that the idea of right
and wrong is a modification of the idea of beauty, then
the same object, if beautiful in one degree, would have no
moral quality; if beautiful in another degree, would begin
to be virtuous; and, if beautiful in the highest degree,
would cease to be beautiful, and be purely virtuous or holy.
What meaning could be attached to such an affirmati6n, I
am not able to discover.
The other meaning of a modification of an idea, is, that
it is compounded with some other idea. Now, suppose out
notion of right and wrong to be a modification in this latter
sense. Then this notion either enters into the original elements of the compound idea, or it does not. If it does,
then it is already present; and this supposition does not
account for its existence. If it does not enter into the elelnents of the compound idea, then these elements must exist
either merely combined, but each possessing its original
character, in which combination the moral idea is not involved; or else they must lose their original character, and
be merely the stated antecedents to another idea, which is
an idea like neither of them, either separately or combined.
In this latter case; it is manifest, that the consequent of an
antecedent is no modification of the antecedent, but an
entirely different subject, coming into existence under these
particular circumstances, and in obedience to the laws of
its own organization. Do we ever term a salt a modification of an acid, or of an alkali, or of an acid and alkali
united?  Is the explosive power of gunpowder a modification of the spark}and the gunpowder?  We think, then, it
may be safely concluded, that the notion of right and wrong
is iot a modification of any other idea.
If any one assert, that this idea universally ensues upon the
"oir cination of two other ideas, it will am come him to show




ï~~THE MORAL QUALITY OF ACTIONS

35

what those two ideas are, neither of which involves ti e
notion of right and wrong, but upon the combination of
which, this notion always arises, While the original elements
which precede it, entirely disappear.
2. Is our notion of the moral quality of actions derived
from an exercise of the judgment?
- Judgment is that act of the mind, by which, a subject
and a predicate being known, we affirm, that the predicate
oelongs to the subject. Thus, he who knows what grass
is, and what green is, may affirm that grass is green. Bul
in this act of the mind, the notion of the two things of
which the affirmation is made, must exist before the act of
judgment can be exerted.   A man who had no notion
either of grass, or of green, could never affirm the one of
the other. And so of any other instance of this act. A
man who had no notion of right or of wrong, could never
affirm either quality of any subject; much less could he, by
this faculty, acquire the original idea. And thus, in general, the judgment only affirms a relation to exist between
two notions which previously existed in the mind; but it
can give us no original notions of quality, either in morals
or in any thing else.
3. Is our notion of the moral quality of actions derived
from association?
The term association is used to designate two habits of
mind considerably alike. The first is that, by which the
sight or recollection of one object calls to recollection some
other object, to which it stands in some particular relation.
Thus, the sight of a hearse may recall to recollection the
death of a friend; or the sound of his native language, in
a foreign country, may awaken in the breast of an exile all
the recollections of home. The second case is, where a
particular emotion, belonging to one train of circumstances,
is awakened by another, with which it has no necessary
connection; and this first emotion comes at last to be
awakened by the accidental, instead of by the necessary
antecedent. Thus, the countenance of a person may be
suited to awaken no emotion of pleasure in itself; but, if
I become acquainted with him, and am pleased with his
moral and intellectual character, a degree of pleasure is, at




ï~~WHENCE DO WE DERIVE OUR NOtIoN

last, excited by his countenance, which, in the end, appears
to me agreeable, or, it may be, beautiful.
Now, in both these cases, it is evident that no new idea
is gained. In the one case, a well known idea is revived;
in the other, two known ideas are connected in a new relation; but this is all. Association is the faculty by which
we transfer; but we can transfer nothing which did not
previously exist. We could never use the idea of right and
wrong by association, unless we had already acquired it.
In the acts of judgment and association, therefore, as the
existence of the notion must be presupposed, neither of these
acts will account for the origin of the notion itself.
4. Is our notion of the moral quality of actions derived
from the idea of the greatest amount of happiness?
Thus, it is said, that our notion of right and wrong is
derived from our idea of productiveness of happiness, or, in
other words, that an action is right or wrong because it is productive or not productive of the greatest amount of happiness
When the affirmative of this question is asserted, it is, I
presume, taken for granted, that the idea of right and
wrong, and of productiveness of the greatest amount of happiness, are two distinct ideas. If they be not, then one
cannot be derived from the other; for nothing can correctly
be said to be a cause of itself. We shall, theiefore, consider them as different ideas, and inquire, in what sense it is
true that the one is the cause of the other.
When we speak of two events in nature, of which one
is the cause of the other, we use the word cause in one of
the two following senses. First, we use it to denote stated
antecedency merely; as when we say that sensation is the
cause of perception, or, that a man perceives an external
object, because an impression is made upon an organ of
sense. Secondly, we use it to signify that the event of
change of:hich we speak may be referred to some law or
fact, more general than itself. We say, in other words,
that the fact in question is a species under somegenus, with
which it agrees as to generic qualities; and from which it is
distinguished by its specific differences. Thus, when asked
why a stone falls to the earth, we reply, because all matter is
reciprocally attractive to all other matter. This is the generic




ï~~OF THE MORAL QUALITY OF ACTIONS?

37

fact, under which the fact in question is to oe comprehended;
and its specific difference is, that it is a particular form of
matter, attracted by a particular form of matter, and probably unlike the matter of the planets, the comets, or the sun.
First. When it is said that an action is right, because it
s productive of the greatest amount of happiness, suppose
because to be used in the first of these senses. It will then
nean, that we are so constituted, that the idea of the greatest amount of happiness is always the stated antecedent to,he idea of right, or moral obligation. Now, this is a question purely of fact. It does not admit of a reason ai priori.
And, if it be the fact, it must be the universal fact; that is
to say, this consequent must always, under similar conditions, be preceded by this antecedent, and this antecedent
be followed by this consequent.
1. To facts, then, let us appeal. Is it a fact, that we
are conscious of the existence of this connection? When
we are conscious that an act is right, is this consciousness
preceded by a conviction that this action will be productive
of the greatest amount of happiness?  When we say it is
wrong to lie or to steal, do we find this consciousness preceded' by the notion, that lying or stealing will not produce
the greatest amount of happiness?  When we say that a
murderer deserves death, do we find this notion preceded
by the other, that murder will not produce the greatest
amount of happiness, and that putting a murderer to death
will produce it?  When we say that a man ought to obey
God, his Creator and Preserver, do we find this conviction
preceded by the other---tat the exercise of this affection
will produce the greatest amount of happiness?  Now, I
may have greatly mistaken the nature of moral affections;
but I am much deceived if many persons will not be found,
who will declare, that, often as they have formed these
judgments, the idea of the greatest amount of happiness
never actually entered into their conception.
2. Or, take the case of children. When you would impress upon a child the duty of obeying its parents, or of
loving God, do you begin by explainig to it the idea of
the greatest amount of happiness? Are we obliged to
make use of this antecedent, in order to produce this cjn4




ï~~1~Ik

38       WHENCE DO WE DERIVE (A R NOTION
sequent? If so, it surely would take a much lo ger til we
than is actually required, to produce in a child any moral
sensibility. Do we not find children, well instructed into the
consciousness of right and wrong, who could not be made to
comprehend the notion of the greatest amount of happiness?
3. How do we attempt to arouse the consciences of the
heathen?  When we tell them   that they ought to obey
God, and believe on Jesus Christ, do we begin by explaining to them that this course of life will produce the greatest
amount of happiness? Suppose we could never arouse
them to duty, until we had produced a conviction of the
amount of happiness which would result to the universe
from piety, would a single one of them ever listen to us
long enough to understand our doctrine?
4. Does the Bible any where assert, that the conviction
of the greatest amount of happiness is necessary to the
existence of moral obligation? If I mistake not, it presents
a very different view of the subject. It declares that the
heathen are without excuse. But why?  Because disobedience to God interferes with the greatest amount of happiness?  No, but for a very different reason: "Because
that which may be known of God is manifest in them,.for
God hath showed it unto them; SO THAT they are without
excuse."  Rom. i. 19, 20. St. Paul here seems to assume,
that the revelation of God's eternal power and divinity, and
the manifestation of his will, are sufficient, of themselves,
without any other consideration, to make whatever he shall
command obligatory upon his creatures.
It seems, then, to me, by no means proved, that an action is right because it is productive of the greatest amount
of happiness; if we mean by it that, in our conceptions, the
one 'dea is the stated antecedent to the other.
Secondly. But let us take the other moaning of because.
Suppose it said, that the idea of moral obligation is an
idea comprehended under, and to be referred to, a more
general idea, namely, that of the productiveness of the
greatest amount of happiness. Now, if this be the caise,.hen, manifestly; either the notion of the greatest amount of
nappiness, and the notion of right, must be equally extensiv; that is, must extend precisely to the same numnber




ï~~OF THE MORAL QUALITY OF ACTIONS.

of 'ndividual instances: or else their extent must be nfferent; that is, the generic notion of the greatest amounmt o'
happiness must comprehend cases which are excludea fror
its species, the idea of right. If the latter be the case, then
there will be some cases in which an action would produce
the greatest amount of happiness, which would not contain
the moral element; and, besides, if this were the case, it
would become those who make this assertion, to show what
is that other element, which, combining with the idea of
the greatest amount of happiness, designates the subordinate
and different idea, as the idea of moral obligation. This,
however, would not be attempted, and it will be at once
admitted, that these two ideas are, in their nature, coextensive; that is, that whatever is productive of the greatest
amount of happiness, is right, and whatever is right, is pro'luctive of the greatest amount of happiness.
Let us suppose it then to be assumed, that the terms are
precisely coextensive, viz., that they apply exactly to the
same actions and in the same degrees. It would then be
difficult to assign a meaning to the word because, corresponding to either of the senses above stated. Nor, if two
terms are precisely coextensive, do I see how it is possible
to discover which of the two is to be referred to the other;
or, whether either is to be referred to either. If A and B
are equally extensive, I do not see how we can determine
whether A is to be referred to B, or B to be referrd to A.
The only other meaning which I can conceive as capable of being attached to the assertion, is this; that we are
not under moral obligation to perform any action, unless it
be productive of the greatest amount of happiness; thus
making moral obligation rest upon this other idea, tiat of
the greatest amount of happiness..
Now, if this be asserted, it is, surely, from what has oeen
said above, not self-evident; for we manifestly do not,
minstinctively and universally, as soon as this connection is
asserted, yield our assent to it, nor is it absurd to deny it;
and, therefore, the assertion is capable of proof, and we
may justly demand the proof before we believe it. Let u,
then, examine the proof on which it rests.
It is, however, to be remarked, that, if the assertion be




ï~~40      WHENCE DO WE DERIVE OUR NOTION

true, that we are under obligation; perform an action only
on the ground that it is productive of the greatest good, the
assertion must be true in its widest sense. It must apply
to actions affecting our relations, not only to man, but also
to God; for these are equally comprehended within the
notvn of moral obligation. And thus, the assertion is, that
we are not under obligation to perform any action whatever,
under any circumstances, unless it be productive of the
greatest amount of happiness.
1. It is said, that these two always coincide; that is,
that we always are under obligation to do whatever is productive of the greatest amount of happiness; and that,
whatever we are under obligation to do, is productive of the
greatest amount of happiness. Now, granting the premises,
I do not see that the conclusion would follow. It is possible to conceive, that God may have created moral agents
under obligations to certain courses of conduct, and have
)so arranged the system of the universe, that the following
of these courses shall be for the best, without making our
obligation to rest at all upon their tendency to produce the
greatest amount of happiness.
A parent may require a child to do that which will be
or the good of the family; and yet there may be other reasons besides this, which render it the duty of the child to
obey his parent.
2. But, secondly, how do we know that these premises
are true-that whatever we are under obligation to do, is
productive of the greatest amount of happiness?  It never
can be known, unless we know the whole history of this
universe from everlasting to everlasting. And, besides, we
know that God always acts right, that is, deals with all
beings according to their deserts; but whether he always
acts simply to promote the greatest happiness, I do not know
that he has told us. His government could not be more
'perfectly right than it is; but whether it could have in.
volved less misery, or have produced more happiness, I do
not know that we have the means of ascertaining. As,
therefore, the one quantity, so to speak, is fixed, that is, is
as great as it can hbe, while we do not certainly know that
the other is as eaat as it can be we cannot affirm that




ï~~OF THE MORAL QUALITY OF ACTIONS?

right and the greatest amount of happiness always coincide:
ior, that we are under obligation to do nothing, unless it
would tend to produce the greatest amount of happiness.
3. Besides, suppose we are under no obligation to do
any thing unless it were productive of the greatest amount
of happiness, it would follow that we are under no obligation to obey God, unless the production of the greatest
amount of happiness were the controlling and universal
principle of his government. That is, if his object, in
creating and governing the universe, were any other, or, if
it were doubtful whether it might not, be any other, our
obligation to obedience would either be annihilated, or
would be contingent; that is, it would be inversely as the
degree of doubt which might exist. Now, as I have before remarked, this may, or may not, be the ultimate end
of God's government; it may be his own pleasure, or his
own glory, or some other end, which he has not seen fit to
reveal to us; and, therefore, on the principle which we
are discussing, our obligation to obedience seems a matter
yet open for discussion. Now, if I mistake not, this is
wholly at variance with the whole tenor of Scripture and
reason. I do not know that the Scriptures ever give us a
reason why we ought to obey God, aside from his  existence
and attributes, or that they ever put this subject in a light
susceptible of a question.
To this view of the subject, the following remarks of
Bishop Butler manifestly tend: "Perhaps divine goodness,
with which, if I mistake not, we make very free in our
speculations, may not be a bare single disposition to produce
happiness; but a disposition to make the good, the faithful,
the honest man happy. Perhaps an infinitely perfect
mind may be pleased with seeing his creatures behave-suitably with the nature which he has given them, to the relations in which he has placed them to each other, and to
that in which they stand to himself; that relation to himself,
which during their existence is ever necessary, and wt,,ch
is the most important one of all. I say, an infinitely perfect
mind may be pleased with this moral piety of moral agents
m and for itself, as well as upon account of its being
essentially conducive to the happiness of his creation. O
4*




ï~~4'2     WHENCE DO WE DERIVE OUR NOTION

the whole end for which God made and thus governs the
world, may be utterly beyond the reach of our faculties:
there may be somewhat in it, as impossible for us to have
any conception of, as for a blind man to have a conception
of colors."  Analogy, part 1, ch. 2.
Again. "Some men seem to think the only character
of the Author of nature, to be that of single, absolute
benevolence. This, considered as a principle of action,
and infinite in degree, is a disposition to produce the great.
est possible happiness, without regard to persons' behavior,
otherwise than as such regard would produce the highest
degrees of it. And, supposing this to be the only charac
ter of God, veracity and justice in him would be nothing
but benevolence, conducted by wisdom. Now, surely this
ought not to be asserted, unless it can be proved; for we
should speak with cautious reverence upon such a subject
There may possibly be, in the creation, beings, to whom
the Author of nature manifests himself under this most
amiable of all characters, this of infinite, absolute benevolence; for- it is the most amiable, supposing it is not, as
perhaps it is not, incompatible with justice; but he manifests himself to us under the character of a Righteous Governor. He may, consistently with this, be simply and absolutelybenevolent, in the sense now explained; but he is,
for he has given us a proof, in the constitution and government of the world, that he is, a Governor over servants, as he
rewards and punishes us for our actions." Analogy, ch. 3.
"Nay, farther, were treachery, violence, and injustice, no
otherwise vicious, than as foreseen likely to produce an
overbalance of misery to society, then, if a man could procure to himself as great advantage by an act of injustice,
as the whole foreseen inconvenience likely to be brought
upon others by it would amount to, such a piec6 of injustice would not be faulty or vicious at all; because it would
be no more than, in any other case, for a man to prefer his
own satisfaction to another's in equal degrees. The fact
then appears to be, that we are constituted so as to condemn falsehood, unprovoked violence, injustice, and to
approve of benevolence to some in preference to others,
r.astracted from all consideration which conduct i likeliest




ï~~OF THE MORAL QUALITY OF ACTIONS t

43

to produce an overbalance of happiness or misery. And.
therefore, were the Author of nature to propose nothing to
himself as an end, but the production of happiness, were
his moral character merely that of Benevolence, yet ours
is not so. Upon that supposition, indeed, the only reason
of his giving us the above-mentioned approbation of benevolence to some persons, rather than others, and disapprobation of falsehood, unprovoked violence, and injustice, must
be that he foresaw this constitution of our nature would
produce more happiness, than forming us with a temper
of mere general benevolence. But still, since this is our
constitution, falsehood, violence, injustice, must be vice in
us, and benevolence to some, preferably to others, must be
virtue, abstracted from all consideration of the overbalance
of evil or good which they appear likely to produce.
"Now, if human creatures are endued with such a moral
nature as we have been explaining, or with a moral facuky,
the nature of which is action, moral government must consist in rendering them happy or unhappy, in rewarding or
punishing them, as they follow, neglect, or depart from, the
moral rule of action, interwoven in their nature, or suggested and enforced by this moral faculty, in rewarding or
punishing them on account of their so doing." Second
Dissertation on Virtue.
For these reasons, I think it is not proved that an action
is right because it is productive of the greatest amount of
happiness. It may be so, or it may not, but we ought not
to believe it to be so without proof; and it may even be
doubted whether we are in possession of the media of
proof, that is, whether it is a question fairly within the
reach of the human faculties; and, so far as we can learn
from the Scriptures, I think their testimony is decidedly
against the supposition. To me, the Scriptures seem ex
plicitly to declare, that the'will of our God alone is sufficient to create the obligation to obedience in all his creatures; and that this will, of itself, precludes every other
inquiry. This seems to be the view of St. Paul, in the
passage which we have quoted, as well as in several other
places, in his Epistle to the Romans. To the same import
is the prayer of our Savior, "I thank thee, 0 Father, Lord




ï~~44

WHENCE DO WE DERIVE OUR NOTION

of heaven and earth, because thou hast hid these things
from the wise and prudent, and hast revealed them unto
babes; even so, Father, for so it seemed good in thy,
sight."
It seems, therefore, to me, that these explanations of
the origin of our moral sentiments are unsatisfactory. I
believe the idea of a moral quality in actions to be ultimate,
to arise under such circumstances as have been appointed
by our Creator, and that we can assign for it no other
reason, than that such is his will concerning us.
If this be true, our only business will be, to state the
circumstances under which our moral notions arise. In
doing this, it would be presumption in me to expect that 1
shall be able to give an account of this subject more satisfactory to others, than theirs has been to me. I merely
offer it as that which seems to me most accurately to cor
respond with the phenomena.
The view which I take of this subject is briefly as
follows:
1. It is manifest to every one, that we all stand in various and dissimilar relations to all the sentient beings
created and uncreated, with which we are acquainted
Among our relations to created beings are those of man tc
man, or thiat of substantial equality, of parent and child,
of benefactor and recipient, of husband and wife, of brothel
and brother, citizen and citizen, citizen and magistrate, and
a thousand others.
2. Now, it seems to me, that, as soon as a human being
comprehends the relation in which two human beings stand
to each other, there arises in his mind a consciousness of
moral obligation, connected, by our Creator, with the very
conception of this relation.  And the fact is the same,
whether he be one of the parties or not. The nature of
this feeling is, that the one ought to exercise certain dis.
positions towards the others to whom he is thus related:
and to act towards them in a manner corresponding with
those dispositions.
3. The nature of these dispositions varies, of course,
with the relations. Thus, those of a parent to a child are
lifferent from those of a child to a parent: those of a




ï~~OF THE MORAL QUALITY OF ACTION.    4

45

benefactor to a recipient, from those of a recipient to a
benefactor: and both of them differ from that of a brother
to a brother, or of a master to a servant. But, different as
these may be from each other, they are all pervaded by
the same generic feeling, that of moral obligation; that is,
we feel that we ought to be thus or thus disposed, and to
act in this or that manner.
4. This I suppose to be our constitution, in regard to
created beings; and such do I suppose would be our feeliag, irrespectively of any notion of the Deity. That is,
upon the conception of these and such like relations, there
would immediately arise this feeling of moral obligation, to
act towards those sustaining these relations, in a particular
manner.
5. But there is an Uncreated Being, to whom we stand
in relations infinitely more intimate and inconceivably more
solemn, than any of those of which we have spoken. It
is that Infinite Being, who stands to us in the relation of
Creator, Preserver, Benefactor, Lawgiver, and Judge; and
to whom we stand in the relation of dependent, helpless, ignorant, and sinful creatures. How much this relation involves, we cannot possibly know; but so much as
this we know, that it involves obligations greater than our
intellect can estimate. We cannot contemplate it without
feeling that, from the very fact of its existence, we are
under obligations to entertain the disposition of filial love
and obedience towards God, and to act precisely as he
shall condescend to direct. And this obligation arises
simply from the fact of the relation existing between the
parties, and irrespectively of any other consideration; and
if it be not felt, when the relations are perceived, it can
never be produced by any view of the consequences which
would arise to the universe from exercising it.
6. This relation, and its consequent obligation, involve,
comprehend, and transcend every other. Hence it places
obligation to man upon a new foundation. For if we be
ourselves thus under illimitable obligations to God, and if,
by virtue of the relation which he sustains to the creation,
he is the Protector, Ruler, and Proprietor of all, we are
under obligations to ooey him in every thing. And as




ï~~46

WHENCE DO WE DERIVE OUR NOTION

every other being is also his creature, we are bound to treat
that creature as he its Proprietor shall direct  Hence we
are bound to perform the obligation under which we stand
to his creatures, not merely on account of our relations to
them, but also on account of the relations in which we
and they stand to God.
And hence, in general, our feeling of moral obligation is
a peculiar and instinctive impulse, arising at once by the
principles of our constitution, as soon as the relations are
perceived in which we stand to the beings, created and
uncreated, with whom we are connected.
The proof of this must rest, as I am aware, with every
man's consciousness. A few illustrative remarks may,
however, not be altogether useless.
I think, if we reflect upon the subject, that the manner
in which we attempt to awaken moral feelings, confirms
the view which I have taken. In such a case, if I mistake
not, we always place before the mind the relation in which
tle parties stand to each other.
1. If we wish to awaken in ourselves gratitude to another,
we do not reflect that this affection will produce the greatest good; but we remember the individual in the relation
of benefactor; and we place this relation in the strongest
possible light. If this will not produce gratitude, our effort,
of necessity, fails.
2. If we desire to inflame moral indignation against
crime, we show the relations in which the parties stand to
each other, and expect hence to produce a conviction of
the greatness of the obligation which such turpitude violates.
3. So, if we wish to overcome evil with good, we place
ourselves in the relation of benefactor to the injurious person; and, in spite of himself, he is frequently compelled to
yield to the law of his nature; and gratitude for favors, and
sorrow for injury, spontaneously arise in his bosom.
4. And, in the plan of mar's redemption, it seems to me
that the Deity has acted on this principle. Irrespectively
of a remedial dispensation, he is known to us only as a
Creator, all wise and all powerful, perfect in holiness, justice, and truth. To our fati en nature, these attributes could




ï~~UI THE MORAL QUALITY OF ACTIONS?

47

ministei no)ing but terror. He, therefore, has revealed
himself to us in the relation of a Savior and Redeemer, a
God forgiving transgression and iniquity; and thus, by all
the power of this new relation, he imposes upon us new
obligations to gratitude, repentance, and love.
5. And hence it is, that God always asserts, that as, from
the fact of this new relation, our obligations to him are in.,
creased; so, he who rejects the gospel is, in a special man
ner, a sinner, and is exposed to a more terrible condemnation.
The climax of all tl at is awful in the doom of the itnbelieving, is expressed by the terms, " the wrath of the
Lamb."
Again. I am not much accustomed to such refined
speculations; but I think that obedience or love to God,
from any more ultimate motive, than that this affection is
due to him because he is God, and our God, is not piety.
Thus, if a child say, I will obey my father, because it is
for the happiness of the family; what the character of this
action would be, I am not prepared to say; but I think
the action would not be filial obedience. Filial obedience
is the obeying of another, because he is my father; and it
is FILIAL obedience, only in so far as it proceeds from this
motive. This will be evident, if we substitute for the lovye
of the happiness of the family, the love of money, or some
other such motive. Every one sees, that it would not be
filial obedience, for a child to obey his parent because he
would be well paid for it.
Now, it seems to me, that the same principle applies min
the other case. To feel under obligation to love God,
because this affection would be productive of the greatest
good, and not on account of what he is, and of the relations
in which he stands to us, seems to me not to be piety; that
is not to be the feeling, which a creature is bound to exercise towards his Creator. If the obligation to the love of
God an really arise from any thing more ultimate than the
essential relation which he sustains to us, why may not this
iiore ultimate motive be something else, as well as the love
)f the greatest good?  I do not say that any thing else,vould be as benevolent; but I speak metaphysically, and
say that. if real piety, or love to God, may truly spring




ï~~48    WHENCE DO WE DERIVE OUR NOTION, ETC.
fiom any thing more ultimate than God himself, I do no;
see why it may not spring from one thing as well as from
another; and thus, true piety might spring from various
and dissimilar motives, no one of which has any real reference to God himself.
My view of this subject, in few words, is as follows:
-1. We stand in relations to the several beings with which
we are connected, such, that some of them, as soon as they
are conceived, suggest to us the idea of moral obligation.
2. Our relations to our fellow-men suggest this conviction; in a limited and restricted sense, corresponding to the
idea of general or essential equality.
3. The relation in which we stand to the Deity suggests
the conviction of universal and unlimited love and obedience
This binds us to proper dispositions towards Him; and,
also, to such dispositions towards his creatures, as he shall
appoint.
4. Hence, our duties to man are enforced by a twofola
obligation; first, because of our relations to man as man;
and, secondly, because of our relation to man as being, with
ourselves, a creature of God.
5. And hence an act, which is performed in obedience to
our obligations to man, may be virtuous; but it is not pious,
unless it also be performed in obedience to our obligations.o God.
6. And hence we see that two things are necessary, in
order to constitute any being a moral agent. They are,
first, that he possess an intellectual power, by which he can
understand the relation in which he stands to the beings by
whom he is surrounded; secondly, that he possess a moral
power, by which the feeling of obligation is suggested to
him, as soon as the relation in which he stands is understood. This is sufficient to render him a moral agent. He
is accountable, just in proportion to the opportunity which
he has enjoyed, for acquiring a knowledge of the relations
min which he stands, and of,the manner in which his obligaions are to be discharged.




ï~~49

CHAPTER SECOND.
CONSCIENCE,. OR THE MORAL SENSE.
SECTION 1
IS THERE A CONSCIENCE?
13By conscience, or the moral sense, is meant, that faculty
by which we discern the moral quality of actions, and by
which we are capable of certain affections in respect to this
quality.
By facukty, is meant any particular part of our constitution, by which we become affected by the various qualities
and relations of beings around us. Thus, by taste, we are
conscious of the existence of beauty and deformity; by
percf ption, we acquire a knowledge of the existence and
qualities of the material world. And, in general, if we
discern any quality in the universe, or produce or suffer any
change, it seems almost a truism to say, that we have a
faculty, or power, foiso doing. A man who sees, must
have eyes, or the faculty for seeing; and if he have not
eyes, this is considered a sufficient reason why he should
not see. And thus, it is universally admitted, that there
may be a thousand qualities in nature, of which we have
no knowledge, for the simple reason, that we have not been
created with the faculties for discerning them. There is a
world without us, and a world within us, which exactly
correspond to each other. Unless both exist, we can never
be conscious of the existence of either.
Now, that we do actually observe a moral quality in the
actions of men, must, I think, be admitted. Every human
oeing is conscious, that, from childhood, he has observed it
We do not say, that all men discern this quality with




ï~~IS THERE A CONSCIENCE?

equal accuracy, any more than that they all see v ith equa
distinctness- but we say, that all men perceive it in some
actions; and that there is a multit de of cases in which
their perceptions of it will be fo.mnd universally to agree.
And, moreover, this quality, and the feeling which accompanies the perception of it, are ui. like those derived from
every other faculty.
The question would then seem reduced to this, Do we
perceive tl ' quality of actions by a single faculty, or by a
combination of faculties? I think it must be evident, from
what has been already stated, that this notion is, in its
nature, simple and ultimate, and distinct from every other
notion. Now, if this be the case, it seems self-evident, that
we must have a distinct and separate faculty, to make us
acquainted with the existence of this distinct and separate
quality. This is the case in respect to all other distinct
qualities: it is, suy, reasonable to suppose, that it would
be the case with this, unless some reason can be shown to
the contrary.
But, after all, this question is, to the moral philosopher,
of but comparatively little importance. All that 's necessary to his investigations is, that it be admitted that there is
such a quality, and that men are so constituted as to perceive it, and to be susceptible of certain affections, in consequence of that perception. Whether these facts are
accounted for, on the supposition of the existence of a
single faculty, or of a combinatio# of faculties, will not
affect the question of moral obligation. All that is necessary to the prosecution of the science is, that it be admitted
that there is such a quality in actions, and that man is
endowed with a constitution capable of bringing him into
relation tc t.
It may, however, be worth while to consider some of the
objections which have been.rged against the supposition
of the existence of such a facmuty.
1. It has been said, if such a faculty has been bestowed,
it must have been bestowed universally: but it is not bestowed universally; for, what some nations cons'der right,
other nations consider wrong, as infapticide, parricide,
duelhng, &c.




ï~~IS THERE A CONSCIENCE

bl

1. To this it may be answered, first, the nbection seems
to admit the universality of the existence of conscience,
or the power of discerning in certain actions a moral quality.
It admits that, every where, men make this distinction;
but affirms, that, in different countries, they refer the quality
to different actions.  Now, how this difference is to be
accounted for, may be a question; but the fact, as stated
in the objection, shows the universality of the power of
observing such a quality in actions.
2. But, secondly, we have said that we discover the
moral quality of actions in the intention. Now, it is not the
fact, that this difference exists, as stated in the objection, if
the intention of actions be considered. Where was it not
considered right to intend the happiness of parents?
Where was it not considered wrong to intend their misery?
Where was it ever considered right to intend to requite
kindness by injury? and where was it ever considered
wrong to intend to requite kindness with still greater kindness?  In regard to the manner in which these intentions
may be fulfilled, there may be a difference; but as to the
moral quality of these intentions themselves, as well as of
many others, there is a very universal agreement among men.
3. And still more, it will be seen, on examination, that,
in these very cases, in which wrong actions are practised,
they are justified on the ground of a good intention, or of
some view of the relations between the parties, which, if
true, would render them innocent. Thus, if infanticide be
justified, it is on the ground, that this world is a place of
misery, and that the infant is better off not to encounter its
troubles; that is, that the parent wishes or intends well to
the child: or else it is defended on the ground, that the relatncn between parent and child is such as to confer on the
one the right of life and death over the other; and, therefore, that to take its life is as innocent as the slaying of a
brute, or the destruction of a vegetable. Thus, also, are
parricide, and revenge, and various other wrong actions,
defended. Where can the race of men be found, be they
ever so savage, who need to be told that ingratitude is
wrong, that parents ought to love their children, or that




ï~~52

IS THERE A CONSCIENCE:

men ought to be submissive and obedient to the Supreme
Divinity?
4. And still more, I think one of the strongest exemplificattons of the tniversality of moral distinctions, is found in
the character o many of the ancient heathen. They perceived these distinctions, and felt and obeyed the impulses
of conscience, even though at variance with all the examples of the deities whom they worshipped. Thus, says
Rousseau, "Ct your eyes over all the nations of the
world, and all the histories of nations. Amid so many
inhuman and absurd superstitions, amid that prodigious
diversity of manners and characters, you will find every
where the same principles and distinctions of moral good
and evil. The paganism of the ancient world produced,
indeed, abominable gods, who, on earth, would have been
shunned or punished as monsters; and who offered, as a
picture of supreme happiness, only crimes tocommit, or passions to satiate. But Vice, armed with this sacred authority,
descended in vain from the eternal abode. She found in
the heart of man, a moral instinct to repel her. The continence of Xenocrates was admired by those who celebrated the debaucheries of Jupiter. The chaste Lucretia
adored the unchaste Venus. The most intrepid Roman
sacrificed to fear. He invoked the god who dethroned his
father, and died without a murmur by the hand of his own.
The most contemptible divinities were served by the greatest men. The holy voice of nature, stronger than that of
the gods, made itself heard, and respected, and obeyed on
earth, and seemed to banish to the confines of heaven, guilt
and the guilty." Quoted by Dr. Brown, Lecture 75.
II. Again, the objection has been made in another form
It is said, that savages violate, without remorse or compunc
tion, the plainest principles of right. Such is the case
when they are 'guilty of revenge and licentiousness.
This objection has been partly considered before. 1
may, however, be.added,
First. No men, nor any class of men, violate every moral
precept without coinpunction, without the feeling of guilt,
and the consciousness of desert of punishment.




ï~~THE DECISION OF CONSCIENCE.

53

Secodly. Hence the objection will rather prove the
existence of a defective or imperfect conscience, than that
no such faculty exists. The same objection would prove
us destitute of taste or of understanding; because these
faculties exist, only in an imperfect state, among savages
and uncultivated men.
III. It has been objected, again, that, if we suppose this
faculty to exist, it is, after all, useless; for if a man please
to violate it, and to suffer the pain, then this is the end of
the question, and, as Dr. Paley says, "the moral instinct
man has nothing more to offer."
To this it may be answered:
The objection proceeds upon a mistake respecting the
function of conscience. Its use is, to teach us to discern
our moral obligations, and to impel us towards the corresponding action. It is not pretended, by the believers in a
moral sense, that man may not, after all, do as he chooses.
All that they contend for is, that he is constituted with
such a faculty, and that the possession of it is necessary to
his moral accountability. It is in his power to obey it or
to disobey it, just as he pleases. The fact that a man may
obey or disobey conscience, no more proves that it does
not exist, than the fact that he sometimes does, and sometimes does not obey, passion, proves that he is destitute of
passion.
SECTION       II
OF THE MANNER IN WHICH THE DECIdIN OF CONSCIENCE I8
EXPRESSED.
Whoever will attentively observe the operations of his
own mind, when deciding upon a moral question, and when
carrying that decision into effect, will, I think, be conscious
of several. distinct forms of moral feeling. These I suppose to be the following:
1. Suppose we are deliberating, respecting an action,
before performing it.
5*




ï~~54

THE DECISION OF CONSCIENCF

1. If we pause, and candidly consider the nature of an
action, which involves, in any respect, our relations with
others; amidst the various qualities which characterize. the
action, we shall not fail to perceive its moral quality. We
may perceive it to be gratifying or self-denying, courteous
or uncivil, in favor of, or against, our interest; but, distinct
from all these, and differing from them all, we may always
perceive, that it seems to us to be either right or wrong.
Let a man recollect any of the cases in his own history, in
which he has been called upon to act under important
responsibility, and he will easily remember, both the fact,
and the pain and distress produced by the conflict of these
opposite impulsions. It is scarcely necessary to remark,
that we easily, or, at least, with much greater ease, perceive
this quality in the actions of others. We discern the mote
in our brother's eye much sooner than the beam in our
own eye.
2. Besides this discriminating power, I think we may
readily observe a distinct impulse to do that which we conceive to be right, and to leave undone that which we conceive to be wrong. This impulse we express by the words
ought, and ought not. Thus, we say it is right to tell the
truth; and I ought to tell it. It is wrong to tell a lie;
and I ought not to tell it. Ought, and ought not, seem to
convey the abstract idea of right and wrong, together with
the other notion of impulsion to do, or not to do, a particular action. Thus, we use it always to designate a motive
to action, as we do passion, or self-love, or any other motive
power. If we are asked, why we performed any action,
we reply, we acted thus, because it gratified our desires, or
because it was for our interest, upon the whole, or because
we felt that we ought to act thus. Either of them is considered sufficient to account for the fact; that is, either of
them explains the motive or impulse, in obedience to which
we acted. It is, also, manifest, thlt we use the term, not
merely to designate an impulse, but, also, an obligation to
act in conformity with it. Thus we say, we ought to do
a thing, meaning that we are not only impelled towards the
action, but that we are under an imperative obligation to
act thus. This is still more distinctly seen, when we speak




ï~~TI  DECISION OF CONSCIENCE.

55

of another. When we say of a friend, that he ought to
do any thing, as we cannot judge of the impulses whicL
move him, wI refer, principally, to this conviction of obligation, which, above every other, should govern him.
The power of this impulse of conscience is most distinctly seen, when it comes into collision with the impulse
of strong and vehement passion. It is then, that the human soul is agitated to the full extent of its capacity for
emotion. And this contest generally continues, specially
if we have decided in opposition to conscience, until the
action is commenced. The voice of conscience is then
lost amid the whirlwind of passion; and it is not heard
until after the deed is done. It is on this account, that this
state of mind is frequently selected by the poets, as a
subject for delineation. Shakspeare frequently alludes to
all these offices of conscience, with the happiest effect.
The constant monitory power of conscience is thus illustrated, by one of the murderers about to assassinate the
Duke of Clarence: "I'll not meddle with it (conscience);
it is a dangerous thing; it makes a man a coward; a man
cannot steal, but it accuseth him; a man cannot swear,
but it checks him. 'Tis a blushing, shamefaced spirit,
that mutinies in a man's bosom: it fills one full of obstacles. It made me once restore a purse of gold, that,
by chance, I found. It beggars any man that keeps it."
Richard Iff, Act i, Sc. 4. The whole scene is a striking
exemplification of the workings of conscience, even in the
bosoms of the most abandoned of men. The wicked
Clarence appeals to the consciences of his murderers; and
they strengthen themselves against his appeals, by referring
to his own atrocities, and thus awakening in their own
Bosoms the conviction that he ought to die.
The state of mind of a man meditating a wicked act
and the tenraporary victory of conscience, are seen in the
foliow'ng extract from Macbeth. He recalls the relationm
in which Duncan stood to him, and these produce so strong
a convicti^a of the wickedness of the murder, that ho
decides no to comnit it.
" If the assassination
Could trammel up the consequence, and catch.




ï~~56

THE DECISION OF CONSCIENCE.

With his surcease, success; that but this blow
Might be the be-all and the end-all here,
But here, upon this bank and shoal of time,We 'd jump the life to come.-But, in these cases,
We still have judgment here; that we but teach
Bloody instructions, which, being taught, return
To plague the inventor. This even-handed justice
Commends the ingredients of our poisoned chalice
To our own lips. He's here in double trust:
Ftrst, as I am his kinsman and his subject,
Strong both against the deed; then, as his host,
Who should against his murderer shut the door,
Not bear the knife myself. Besides, this Duncan
Hath borne his faculties so meek, hath been
So clear in his great office, that his virtues
Will plead like angels, trumpet-tongued, against
The deep damnation of his taking off.
*      S     *  *   *
I have no spur
To prick the sides of my intent, but only
Vaulting ambition, which o'erleaps itself."
Mlacbeth, Act i, Sc.
The anguish which attends upon an action not yet cc'nmenced, but only resolved upon, while we still doubt of
its lawfulness, is finely illustrated by the same author, in
the case of Brutus, who, though a man of great fortitude,
was, by the anguish of contending emotions, deprived of
sleep, and so changed in behavior, as to give his wvife
reason to suspect the cause of his disquietude:
" Since Cassius first did whet me against Caesar,
I have not slept.
Between the acting of a dreadful thing
And the first motion, all the interim is
Like a phantasma, or a hideous dream:
The genius, and the mortal instruments,.Are then in council; and the state of man,
Like to a little kingdom, suffers then
The nature of an insurrection."
J. Casar, Act ii, Sc. 1.
The same contest between conscience and the lower
propensities, is, as I suppose, graphically described by the
Apostle Paul, in the seventh chapter of his Epistle to the
Romans.
II. Suppose now an action to be done. I think that
every one who examines his own heart will be conscious
of another class of feelings consequent on those to which
we have just alluded




ï~~THE DECISJCN OF CONSCIENCE.

57

1. If he lave obeyed the impulses of conscience, andt
resisted successfully the impulses at variance with it, he
will be conscious of a feeling of innocence, of self-approbation, of desert of reward. If the action have been done
by another, he will feel towards him a sentiment of respect,
of moral approbation, and a desire to see him rewarded,
and, on many occasions, to reward him himself.
2. If hlie have disobeyed the impulses of conscience, he
will be conscious of guilt, of self-abasement, and self-disa pprobation or remorse, and of desert of punishment. If it
have been done by another, he will be conscious of a sentiment of moral disapprobation, andt of a desire that the
offender should be punished, and, in many cases, of a desire
to punish him himself. Of course, I do not say that all
these feelings can be traced, by reflection upon every
action; but I think that, in all cases in which our moral
sensibilities are at all aroused, we can trace some, and fre
quently all of them.
In accordance with these remarks, several facts may be
noticed.
The boldness of innocence, and the timidity of guilt, so
often observed by moralists and poets, may be thus easily
accounted for. The virtuous man is conscious of deserving
nothing but reward. Whom, then, should he fear?   The
guilty man is conscious of desert of punishment, and is
aware that every one who knows of his offence desires to
punish him; and as he never is certain but that every one
knows it, whom can he trust? And, still more. there is,
with the feeling of desert of punishment, a disposition to
submit to punishment arising fiora our own self-disapproba..
Lon and remorse. This depresses the spirit, and humbles
the courage of the offender, far more than even the external
circumstances by which hlie is surrounded.
Thus, says Solomon, "the wicked flee when no man
pursueth. but the righteous is bold as a lion."
"What stronger breastplate than a heart untainted.
Thrice is he armed, who hath his quarrel just;
And he but naked, though lock'd up in steel,
Whose conscien -e with injus ice is &rrupted."
2d Part Henry VI, Act iii, Sc 9.




ï~~58

THE DECISION OF CONSCIENCE.

Suspicion always haunts the guilty mind;
The thief doth fear each bush an officer."
2d Part Henry VI, Act v, Sc. 6.
"I feel within me
A peace, abov all earthly dignities,A still and quiet conscience."
Henry VIII, Act iiiSe. 2.
The effect of guilt:
" No wonder why
I felt rebuked beneath his eye;
I might have known, there was but one,
Whose look could quell Lord Marmniion."
3larmion, Cant. vi, 17.
" Curse on yon base marauder's lance,
And doubly curs'd my failing brand!
A sinful heart makes feeble hand."
Mlarmion, Cant. vi, St. 32.
It is in consequence of the same facts, that crime is, with
so great certainty, detected.
A man, before the commission of crime, can foresee no
reason why he might not commit it, with the certainty of
escaping detection.  He can perceive no reason why he
should be even suspected; and can imagine a thousand
methods, in which suspicion; awakened, might with perfect
ease be allayed.   But, as soon as he becomes guilty, his
relations to his fellow-men are entirely changed. He becomes suspicious of every one, and thus sees every occurrence through a false medium. Hence, he cannot act like
an innocent man; and this very difference in his conduct,
is very often the sure means of his detection.  When to
this effect, produced upon the mind by guilt, is added the
fact, that every action must, by the condition of our being,
be attended by antecedents and consequents beyond our
control, all of which lead directly to the discovery of the
truth, it is not wonderful, that the guilty so rarely escape.
Hence it has grown irto a proverb, "murder will out; "'
and such we generally find to be the fact.
This effect of guilt upon human acti.a has been frequently remarked.
Thus, Macbeth, after the murder of Duncan:




ï~~THE AUTHORITY OF CONSCIENCE.

59

" How is it wi n i me when every noise appals me?"
Act ii, Sc. 2
" Guiltiness will speak, though tongues were out of use."
The same fact is frequently asserted in the sacred Scrip.
tures.  Thus, "The Lord is known by the judgment that
he executeth; the wicked is snared in the work of his own
hands."
"Though hand join in hand, the wicked shal. not go
unpunished."
I hope that I need not apologize for introducing into
such a discussion so many illustrations from poetry. They
are allowed, on all hands, to be accurate delineations of the
workings of the human mind, and to have been made by
most -accurate observers. They were made, also, withou'
the possibility of bias from any theory; and therefore axe
of great value, when they serve to confirm any theoretical
views, with which they may chance to coincide.  They
Y        J, at leas, in what iht   whoseolb       to
observe the human heart have conse               and
w at teyave supposed to e its functions, and its mode
of operation.
SECTION III.
THE AUTHORITY OF CONSCIENCE.
We have, thus far, endeavored to show, that there is in
man a faculty denominated Conscience; and that it is not
merely a discriminating, but also an impulsive faculty.
The next question to be considered is, what is the authority
of this impulse.
The object of the present section is, to show that this
is the most authoritative impulse of which we find ourselves
susceptible.
The supremacy of Conscience may be illustrated in
various ways.




ï~~60

THE AUTHORITY OF CONSCIENCE.

I. It is involved in the very conception which men form
of this faculty.
The various impulses of which we find ourselves susceptible, can differ only min two respects, that of strength and
that of authority.
t When we believe them to differ in nothing but strength,
we feel ourselves perfectly at liberty to obey the strongest. Thus, if different kinds of food be set before us,
all equally healthy, we feel entirely at liberty to partake
of that which we prefer; that is, of that to which we are
most strongly impelled. If a man is to decide between
making a journey by land, or by water, he considers it a
sufficient motive for choice, that the one mode of travelling is more pleasant to him than the other. But when
our impulses differ in authority, we feel obliged to neglect
the difference in strength of impulse, and to obey that, be
it ever so weak, which is of the higher authority. Thus,
suppose our desire for any particular kind of food to be
ever so strong, and we know that it would injure our
health; self-love would admonish us to leave it alone
Now, self-love being a more authoritative impulse than
passion, we should feel an obligation to obey it. be its
admonition ever so weak, and the impulse of appetite ever
so vehement. > If we yield to the impulse of appetite, be it
ever so strong, in opposition to that of self-love,e it ever
so weak, we feel a consciouness of  gradation, and o
cting unworthilof ur nature; and, if we see anoiei
personacI if  n this manner, we cannot avoid feeling
towards him a sentiment of contempt. "'Tis not in folly
not to scorn a fool."  And, in general, whenever we act
in obedience to a lower, and in opposition to a higher sentiment, we feel this consciousness of degradation, which we
do not feel when the impulses differ only in degree. And,
conversely, whenever we feel this consciousness of degradation, for acting in obedience to one instead of to another,
we may know that we have violated that which is of the
higher authority
If, now, we reflect upon our feelings consequent upon
any moral action, I think we shall find, that we always are
conscious of a sentiment of self-degradation, whenever we




ï~~THE AUTHORITY OF CONSCIENCE.

61

disobey the monition of conscience, be that monition eve;
so weak, to gratify the impulse of appetite, or passion, or
self-love, bt that impulse ever so strong. Do we considei
it any palliation of the guilt of murder, for the criminal to
leclare, that his vindictive feelings impelled him much more
strongly than his conscience? whereas, if we perceived in
these impulses no other difference than that of strength, we
Ohould consider this not merely an excuse, but a justification. And that the impulse of conscience is of the highest
authority, is evident from the fact, that we cannot conceive
of any circumstances, in which we should not feel guilty
and degraded, from acting in obedience to any impulse
whatever, in opposition to the impulse of conscience. And
thus, we cannot conceive of any more exalted character,
than that of him, who, on all occasions, yields himself up
implicitly to the impulses of conscience, all things else
to the contrary notwithstanding. I think no higher evidence can be produced, to show that we do really consider
the impulse of conscience of higher authority than any
other of which we are susceptible.
II. The same truth may, I think, be rendered evident,
by observing the feelings which arise within us, when we
compare the actions of men with those of beings of an
inferior order.
Suppose a brute to act from appetite, and injure itself by
gluttony; or from passion, and injure another brute firom
anger: we feel nothing like moral disapprobation.  We
pity it, and strive to put it out of its power to act thus in
future. We never feel that a brute is disgraced or degraded
by such an action. But suppose a man to act thus, and
we cannot avoid a feeling of disapprobation and of disgust;
a conviction that the man has done violence to his nature
Thus, to call a man a brute, a sensualist, a glutton, is to
speak of him in the most insulting manner: it is to say
in the strongest terms, that he has acted unworthily of him
self, and of the nature with which his Creator has endowed
him.
Again. Let a brute act from deliberate selfishness; thai
Is, with deliberate caution seek its own happiness upon the
whole, unmindful of the impulsions of present appetite, but
6




ï~~62'

TIHE AUTHORITY OF CONSCIENCE.

yet wholly regaldless of the happiness of any otr.er ct its
species. In no case do we feel disgust at such a course of
action; and in many cases, we, on the contrary, rather
regard it with favor. We thus speak of the cunning of
animals in taking their prey, in escaping danger, and in
securing for themselves all the amoiunt of gratification that
may be in their power. We are sensible, in these cases,
that the animal has acted from the highest impulses of
which the Creator has made it susceptible. But let a man
act thus. Let him, careful merely of his own happiness
upon the whole, be careful for nothing else, and be perfectly
willing to sacrifice the happiness of others, to any amount
whatsoever, to promote his own, to the least amount soever.
Such has been, frequently, the character of sensual and
unfeeling tyrants. We are conscious, in such a case, of a
entiment of disgust and deep disapprobation. We feel
nat the man has not acted in obedience to the highest
impulses of which he was susceptible; and poets, and
satirists, and historians, unite in holding him up to the world,
as an object of universal detestation and abhorrence.
Again. Let another man, disregarding the impulses of
passion, and appetite, and self-love, act, under all circumstances, in obedience to the monitions of conscience, unmoved and unallured by pleasure, and unawed by power;
and we instinctively feel that he has attained to the highest
emiinence to which our nature can aspire; and 'at he has
acted from the highest impulse of which his n ure is susceptible. We are conscious of a conviction of his superiority, which nothing can outweigh; of a feeling of veneration, allied to the reverence which is due to the Supreme
Being. And with this homage to virtue, ail history is
filled. The judge may condemn the innocent, but posterity
will condemn the judge. The tyrant may murder the
martyr, but after ages will venerate the martyr, and execrate the tyrant. And if we will look over the names of
those, on whom all past time has united in conferring the
tribute of praise-worthiness, we shall find them to be the
names of those who, although they might Cffer in other
respects, yet were similar in this, that they shone resp endent
in the lustre of unsullied virtue.




ï~~THE AUTHORITY OF CONSCIENCE

Now, as our Creator has constituted us such as we are,
and as, by our very constitution, we do thus consider conscience to be the most authoritative impulse of our nature,
it must be the most authoritative, unless we believe that He
has deceived us, or, wh:ch is the same thing, that He has
so formed us, as to give credit to a lie.
III. The supremacy of conscience may be also illustrated, by showing the necessity of this supremacy, to the
accomplishment of the objects for which man was created.
When we consider any work of art, as a system composed of parts, and arranged for the accomplishment of a
given object, there are three several views which we may
have of it, and all of them necessary to a complete and
perfect knowledge of the thing.
1. We must have a knowledge of the several parts of
which it is composed. Thus, he who would understand a
watch, must know the various wheels and springs which
enter into the formation of the instrument. But this alone,
as, for instance, if they were spread separately before him,
upon a table, would give him a very imperfect conception
of a watch.
2. He must,. therefore, understand how these parts are
put together. This will greatly increase his knowledge;
but it will still be imperfect, for he may yet be ignorant of
the relations which the parts sustain to each other. A
man might look at a steam-engine until he was familiarly
acquainted with its whole machinery, and yet not know
whether the paddles were designed to move the piston-rod,
or the piston-rod to move the paddles.
3. It is necessary, therefore, that he should have a conception of the relation which the several parts sustain to
each other; that is, of the effect which every part way
designed to produce upon every other part. When he has
arrived at this idea, and has combined it with the other
ideas just mentioned, then, and not till then, is his knowledge of the instrument complete.
I. is manifest, that this last notion, that of the relations
which the parts sustain to each other, is, frequently, of
more importance thari either of the others. He who has
a conception of the cause of motion m a steam-engine, ans




ï~~64        THE AUTHORITY OF CONSCIENCE

of the manner min which the ends are accomplished, has a
more valuable notion of the instrument, than he who has
ever so accurate a knowledge of the several parts, without
a conception of the relation. Thus, in the history of
astronomy, the existence of the several parts of the solar
system was known for ages, without being productive of
any valuable result. The progress of astronomy is to be
dated from the moment, when the relation which the several
parts hold to each other, was discovered by Copernicus.
Suppose, now, we desire to ascertain what is the relation
which the several parts of any system are designed, by its
author, to sustain to each other. I know of no other way,
than to find out that series of relations, in obedience to which
the system will accomplish the object for which it was constructed. Thus, if we desire to ascertain the relation which
the parts of a watch are designed to sustain to each other,
we inquire what is that series of relations, in obedience to
which, it will accomplish the purpose for which it was constructed, that is, to keep time. For instance, we should
zonduct the inquiry by trying each several part, and ascertaining by experiment, whether, on the supposition that it
was the cause of motion, the result, namely, the keeping of
time, could be effected. After we had tried them all, and
shad found, that under no other relation of the parts to each
other, than that which assumes the mainspring to be the
source of motion, and the balance wheel to be the regulator
of the motion, the result could be produced; we should
conclude, with certainty, that this was the relation of the
parts to each other, intended to be established by the maker
of the watch.
And, again, if an instrument wore designed for several
purposes, and if it was found, that not only a single purose could not be accomplished, but that no one of them:ould be accomplished, under any other system of relations
than that which had been at first d covered, we snould
arrive at the highest proof of which the case was susceptible, that such was the relation intended to oe estabhlished
between the parts, by the inventor of the machine.
Now, man is a system composed of parts in the manner
aboyv stated. He has various powers, ana faculties, an,




ï~~THE AUTHORITY OF CONSCIENCE.

6b

impulses; and he is manifestly designed to produce some
result. As to the ultimate design for which man was
created, there may be a difference of opinion. In one
view, however, I presume there will be no difference. It
will be allowed by all, that he was designed for the production of his own happiness. Look at his senses, his intellect,
his affections, and at the external objects with which these
are brought into relation; and at the effects of the legitimate action of these powers upon their appropriate objects;
and no one   an for a moment doubt, that this was one
object for which man was created. Thus, it is as clear,
that the eye was intended to be a source of pleasure, as that
it was intended to be the instrument of vision. It is as clear,
that the ear was intended to be a source of pleasure, as to be
the organ of hearing. And thus of the other faculties.
But when we consider man as an instrument for the production of happiness, it is manifest, that we must take into
the account, man as a society, as well as man as an individual. The larger part of the happiness of the individual
depends upon society; so that whatever would destroy
society,--or, what is, in fact, the same thing, destroy
the happiness of man as a society,-would destroy the
happiness of man as an individual. And such is the constitution under which we are placed, that no benefit or
injury can be, in its nature, individual. Whoever truly
promotes his own happiness, promotes the happiness of
society; and whoever promotes the happiness of society,
promotes his own happiness. In this view of the subject,
it will then be proper to consider man as a society, as an
instrument for producing the happiness of man as a society
as well as man as an individual, as an instrument for pro
ducing the happiness of man as an individual.
Let us now consider man as an instrument for the pro.
duction of human happiness, in the sense here explained.
If we examine the impulsive and restraining faculties of
man, we shall find, that they may, generally, be comprehFnded under three classes:1. Passion or appetite. The object of this class of our
faculties is, to impel us towards certain acts, which produce
immediate pleasure. Thus. he appetite for food impels us
6*




ï~~66

THE AUTHORITY OF CONSCIENCE.

to seek gratification by eating. The love of power impels
us to seek the gratification resulting from superiority; and
so of all the rest.
If we consider the nature of these faculties, we shall find,
that they impel us to immediate gratification, without any
respect to the consequences, either to ourselves or to
others; and that they know of no limit to indulgence, until,
by their own action, they paralyze th- power of enjoyment.
Thus, the love of food would impel us to eat, until eating
ceased to be a source of pleasure. And where, from the
nature of the case, no such limit exists, our passions are
insatiable. Such is the ca)e with the love of wealth, and
the love of power. In these instances, there being, in the
constitution of man, no limit to the power of gratification,
the appetite grows by what it feeds on.
2. Interest or self-love. This faculty impels us to seek
our own happiness, considered in reference to a longer or
shorter period; but always beyond the present moment.
Thus, if appetite impelled me to eat, self-love would
prompt me to eat such food, and in such quantity, as would
produce for me the greatest amount of happiness, upon the
whole. If passion prompted me to revenge, self-love would
prompt me to seek revenge in such a manner as would not
involve me in greater distress than that which I now suffer;
or, to control the passion entirely, unless I could so gratify
it, as to promote my own happiness for the future, as well
as for the present. In all cases, however, the promptings
of self-love have respect solely to the production of our own
happiness; they have nothing to do with the happiness of
any other being.
3. Conscience. The office of conscience, considered in
relation to these other impulsive faculties, is, to restrain our
appetites within such limits, that the gratification of them
will injure neither ourselves nor others.; and so to govern
)ur self-love, that we shall act, not solely in obedience tc
the law of our own happiness, but in obedience to that law
which restricts the pursuit of happiness within such limits,
as shall not interfere with the happiness of others. It is.not here asserted, that conscience always admonishes us to
tlmis effec t; or ihat, when it admonishes us, it is always




ï~~THE AUTHORITY OF CONSCIENCE.

b7

successful. We may, if we please, disobey its monitions;
or, from reasons hereafter to be mentioned, its monitions
may have ceased. What we would speak of here, is the
tendency and object of this faculty; and the result to which,
if it were perfectly obeyed, it would manifestly lead. And,
that such is its tendency, I think that no one, who reflects
upon the operations of his own mind, can, for a moment,
doubt.
Suppose, now, man to be a system, for the promotion
of happiness, individual and social; and that these various
impelling powers are parts of it. These powers being fie
quently, in their nature, contradictory; that is, being such,
that one frequently impels to, and another repels from, the
same action; the question is, in what relation of these
powers to each other, can the happiness of man be most
successfully promoted.
1. It cannot be asserted, that, when these impulsions are
at variance, it is a matter of indifference to which of them
we yield; that is, that a man is just as happy, and renders
society just as happy, by obeying the one as the other.
For, as men always obey either the one or the other, this
would be to assert that all men are equally happy; and
that every man promoted his own happiness just as much
by one course of conduct, as by another; than which, nothing can be more directly at variance with the whole experience of all men, in all ages. It would be to assert, that the
glutton, who is racked with pain, is as happy as the ternmperate and healthy man; and that Nero and Caligula were
as great benefactors to mankind, as Howard or Wilberforce.
2. If, then, it be not indifferent to our happiness, to
which of them we yield the supremacy, the question returns, Under what relation of each to the other, can the
happiness of man be most successfully promoted?
1. Can the happiness of man be promoted, by subjecting
his other impulses to his appetites and passions?
By referring to the nature of appetite and passion, as
previously explained, it will be seen that the result to the
individual, of such a course, would be sickness and death.
It would be a life of unrestrained gratification of every
desire, until the power of enjoyment was exhausted, without




ï~~68        THE AUTHORITY OF CONSCIENCE.

the least regard to the future; and of refusal to er dure any
present pain, no matter how great might be the subsequent
advantage. Every one must see, that, under the present
constitution, such a course of life must produce nothing but
individual misery.
The result upon society would be its utter destruction.
It would render every man a ferocious beast, bent upon
nothing but present gratification, utterly reckless of the
consequences which gratification produced upon himself,
either directly, or through the instrumentality of others;
and reckless of the havoc which he made of the happiness
o0 his neighbor. Now, it is manifest, that the result of
subjecting man to such a principle, would be, not only the
destruction of society, but, also, in a few years, the entire
destruction of the human race.
2. Can the happiness of man be best promoted by subjecting all his impulses to self-love?
It may be observed, that our knowledge of the future,
and of the results of the things around us, is manifestly
insufficient to secure our own happiness, even by the most
sagacious self-love. When we give up the present pleasure, or suffer the present pain, we must, from necessity, be
wholly ignorant whether we shall ever reap the advantage
which we anticipate. The system, of which every in
dividual forms a part, was not constructed to secure the
happiness of any single individual; and he who devises his
plans with sole reference to himself, must find them continually thwarted by that Omnipotent and Invisible Agency,
which is overruling all things upon principles directly at
variance with those which he has adopted. Inasmuch, then,
as we can never certainly secure to ourselves those results
which self-love anticipates, it seems necessary, that, in order
to derive from our actions the happiness which they are
capable of producing, they involve in themselves some element, irrespective of future result, which shall give us
pleasure, let the result be what it may.
The imperfection of self-love, as a director of conduct, is
nobly set forth in Cardinal Wolsey's advice to Cromwell,
" Mark but my fall, and that which ruin'd me.
Cr )mwell, I charge thee fling away ambition




ï~~THE AUTHORITY OF CONSCIENCE.

69

Love thyself last. Cherish the hearts that hate thee.
Be just, and fear not,
Let all the ends thou aim'st at, be thy country's,
Thy God's, and truth's; then, if thou fall'st, O Crornr.ell!
Thou fall'st a blessed martyr."
Henry VIII, Act iii Sc. 2.
"May he do justice,
For truth's sake, and lis conscience; that his bones
When he has run his course, and sleeps in blessings
SMay have a tomb of orphans' tears wept on them.'"
Ibid.
" For care and trouble set your thought,
Ev'n when your end's attained;
And all your plans may come to nought,
When every nerve is strained."
BuRnus's Epistle to a Young Friend.
"But, mousie! thou art not alone,
In proving foresight may be vain.
The best laid schemes of mice and men
Gang oft agley,
And leave us nought but grief and pain
For promised joy."
BURNS, On turning up a.Mouse's Nest.
Be-ides, a man, acting from uncontrolled self-love, knows
of no other object than his own happiness. He would
sacrifice the happiness of others, to any amount, how great
soever, to secure his own, in any amount, how small soeve.
Now, suppose every individual to act in obedience to this
principle; it must produce universal war, and terminate in
the subjection of all to the dominion of the strongest; and
in sacrificing the happiness of all to that of one: that is, pr,
duce the least amount of happiness of which the system is
susceptible. And, still more, since men, who have acted
upon this principle, have been proverbially unhappy; the
result of such a course of conduct is, to render ourselves
miserable by the misery of every one else; that is, its tendecy is to the entire destruction of happiness.  It is manifest, then, that the highest happiness of man cannot be
promoted by subjecting all his impulses to the government
of self-love.
Lastly. Suppose, now, all the impulses of man to be
iubjected to conscience.
The tendency of this impulse so far as this subject w




ï~~70       " THE A JTHORITY OF CONSCIENCE.

concerned, is, to restrain the appetites and passions of man
within those limits, that shall conduce to his happiness, on
the whole; and so to control the impulse of self-love, that
the individual, in the pursuit of his own happiness, shall
never interfere with the rightful happiness of his neighbor.
Each one, under such a system, and governed by such an
impulse, would enjoy all the happiness which he could
create by the use of the powers which God had given him.
Every one doing thus, the whole would enjoy all the happiness of which their constitution was susceptible. The
happiness of man, as an individual, and as a society, would
thus be, in the best conceivable manner, provided for.
And thus, under the relation which we have suggested;
that is, conscience being supreme, and governing both selflove and passion; and self-love, where no higher principle
intervened, governing passion; man individual, and man
universal, considered as an instrument for the production of
happiness, would best accomplish the purpose for which
he was created.   This, then, is the relation between
nis powers, which was designed to be established by his
Creator.
It can, in the same manner, be shown, that, if man, in
dividual and universal, be considered as an instrument for
the production of power, this end of his creation can be
accomplished most successfully by obedience to the relation
here suggested; that is, on the principle, that the authority
of conscience is supreme.* This is conclusively shown in
Butler's Analogy, Part i, Chapter 3. And thus, let any
reasonable end be suggested, for which it may be supposed
that man has been created; and it will be found, that this
end can be best attained, by the subjection of every other
impulse to that, of conscience; nay., that it can be attained
in no other way. And hence, the argument seems conlusive, that this is the relation intended by his Creator to
be established between his faculties.
" Vis consili expers, mole ruit sua.
I,m temperatam, di quoque provehunt
In majus; idem odere vires
Omne nefas animo moventes.
Hon. Lib: 3, Car. 4.




ï~~THE LAW BY WHICH, ETC.

If the preceding views be correct, it will follow:
1. If God has given man an impulse for virtue, it is as
true, that he has designed him for virtue, as for any thing
else; as, for instance, for seeing or for hearing.
2. IT this impulse be the most authoritative in his nature
it is equally manifest, that man is made for virtue more
than for any thing else.
3. And hence, he who is vicious, not only acts contrary
to his nature, but contrary to the highest impulse of A 4
nature; that is, he acts as much in opposition to his nate
as it is possible for us to conceive.
SECTION IV.
THE LAW BY WHICH CONSCIENCE IS GOVERNED.
Conscience follows the general law, by which the imorovement of all our other faculties is regulated. It is
strengthened by use, it is impaired by disuse.
Here it is necessary to remark, that, by use, we mean
the use of the faculty itself, and not of some other faculty.
This is so plain a case, that it seems wonderful that there
should have been any mistake concerning it. Every one
knows, that the arms are not strengthened by using the
legs, nor the eyes by using the ears, nor the taste by using
the understanding. So, the conscience can be strengthened, not by using the memory, or the taste, or the understanding; but by using the conscience, and by using it
precisely accor ng to the laws, and under the conditions,
designed by our' Creator. The conscience is not improved
by the reading of moral essays, nor by committing to
memory moral precepts, nor by imagining moral vicissitudes; but by hearkening to its monitions, and obeying its
impulses.
If we reflect upon the nature of the monition of conscience, we shall find that its office is of a threefold
character.




ï~~7"2

THE LAW BY WHICH

I. It enables us to discover the moral quality of actions.
2. It impels us to do right, and to avoid doing wrong.
3. It is a source of pleasure, when we have done right,
and of pain, when we have done wrong.
Let us illustrate the manner in which it may le improved, and injured, in each of these respects.
I. Of the improvement of the discriminating power of
conscience.
1. The discriminating power of conscience is improved
by reflecting upon the moral character of our actions, both
before and after we have performed them. If, before we
resolve upon a course of conduct, or before we suffer ourselves to be committed to it, we deliberately ask, Is this
right? Am I now actuated by appetite, by self-love, or by
conscience? we shall seldom mistake the path of duty.
After an action has been performed, if we deliberately and
impassionately examine it, we may without. difficulty decide whether it was right or wrong. Now, with every
such effort as this, the discriminating powei of conscience
is strengthened. We discern moral differences more distinctly; and we distinguish between actions, that before,
seemed blended and similar.
2. The discriminating power of conscience is improved,
by meditating upon characters of pre-eminent excellence,
and specially upon the character of God our Creator, and
Christ our Redeemer, the Fountain of all moral excellence.
As we cultivate taste, or our susceptibility to beauty, by
meditating tpon the most finished specimens of art, or the
most lovely scenery in nature, so conscience, or our moral
susceptibility, is improved, by meditating upon any thing
eminent for moral goodness. It is hence, that example
produces so powerful a moral effect; and hence, that one
single act of heroic virtue, as that of Howard, or of illustrious self-denial, gives a new impulse to the moral character of an age. Men cannot reflect upon such actions,
without the production of a change in their moral susceptibility. Hence, the effect of the Scripture representations
of the character of God, and of the moral glory of the
Sheavenly state. The Apostle Paul refers to this principle,
when he says, "We all, with open face, beholding, as in a




ï~~CONSCIENCE IS GOVERNEDI).

glass, the glory of the Lord, are changed into he same
image, from glory to glory, even as by the Sprit of the
Lord."
On the contrary, the discriminating power of conscience
nay be injured,
1. By neglecting to reflect upon the moral character of
our actions, both before and after we have performed them.
As taste is rendered obtuse by neglect, so that we fail to distinguish between elegance and vulgarity, and between beauty
and deformity; so, if we yield to the impulses of passion, and
turn a deaf ear to the monitions of conscience, the dividing
line between right and wrong seems gradually ti, become
obliterated. We pass from the confines of the one into
those of the other, with less and less sensation, and at last
neglect the distinction altogether.
Horace remarks this fact:
Fas atque nefas, exiguo fine, libidinum
Discernunt avidi.
This is one of the most. common causes of the grievous
moral imperfection which we every where behold. Men
act without moral reflection. They will ask, respecting an
action, every question before that most important one, Is it
right  and, in the great majority of cases, act without
putting to themselves this question at all. "The ox
knoweth his owner, and the ass his master's crib; but
Israel doth not know, my people do not consider." If any
man doubt whether this be true, let him ask himself, How
large is the portion of the actions which I perform, upon
which I deliberately decide wnetier they be right or wrong?
And on how large a portion of my actions do I form such
a decision, after they have been performed? For the
want of this reflection, the most pernicious habits are daily
formed or strengthened; and, when to the power of habit
is added the seductive influence of passion, it is not wonderful that the virtue of man should be the victim.
2. The discriminating power of conscience is impaired
by frequent meditation upon vicious character and action.
By frequently contemplating vice, our passions become
eFcited, and our moral disgust dimi_ shes. Thus, also, by
7




ï~~74

THE LAW     VHI )H

becoming familiar with wicked men, we lean to associate
whatever they may possess of intellectr d or social interest,
with their moral character; and hence our ahorrence of
vice is lessened. Thus, men who are accustomed tc view,
habitually, any vicious custom, cease to have their noral
feelings excited by beholding it. All this is manifest, from
the facts made known in the progress of every moral reformation. Of so delicate a texture has God made our moral
nature, and so easily is it either improved or impaired.
Pope says, truly,
Vice is a monster of so frightful mien,
As, to be dreaded, needs but to be seen;
But, seen too oft, familiar with her face,
We first endure, then pity, then embrace.
It is almost unnecessary to remark, that this fact will enable
us to estimate the value of much of our reading, and of
much of our society. Whatever fills the memory with
scenes of vice, or stimulates the imagination to conceptions
of impurity, vulgarity, profanity, or thoughtlessness, must,
by the whole of this effect, render us vicious. As a man
of literary sensibility will avoid a badly written book, for
fear of injuring his taste, by how much more should we
dread the communion with any thing wrong, lest it should
contaminate our imagination, and thus injure our moral. sense!
II. The impulsive power of conscience is improved by
use, and weakened by disuse.
To illustrate this law, eneed only refer to the elements
of man's active nature. We are endowed with appetites,
passions, and self-love, in all their various forms; and any
one of them, or all of them, may, at times, be found impelling us towards actions in opposition to the impulsion of
conscience, and, of course, one or the other impulse must
be resisted. Now, as the law of our faculties is universal,
diat they are strengthened by use, and weakened by disuse,
it is manifest, that, whQn we obey the impulse of conscience,
and resist the impulse of passion, the power of cot science is
strengthened; and, on the contrary, when we obey the
mnpulse )f passion, and resist that of conscience, the power




ï~~CUNStALNC   IS GOVERNED.

75

of passion io strengthened. And, yet more, as either cf
these is strengthened, its antagonist impulse is weakened.
Thus, every time a man does right, he gains a victory over
his lower propensities, acquires self-control, and becomes
more emphatically a freemar   Every time a man does
wrong, that is, yields to his lwer propensities, he loses selfcontrol, he gives to his passions power over him, he weakens
thie practical supremacy of conscience, and becomes more
perfectly a slave. The design of the Christian religion, in
this respect, is to bring us under the dominion of conscience,
enlightened by revelation, and to deliver us from the slavery
of evil propensity. Thus, our Lord declares, "If the Son
shall make you free, ye shall be free indeed." And, on
the contrary, "Whosoever committeth sin, is the servant
(the slave) of sin."
Again. It is to be remarked, that there exists a reciprocal connection between the use of the discriminating and of
the impulsive power of conscience. The more a man
reflects upon moral distinctions, the greater will be the
practical influence which he will find them to exert over
him. And it is still more decidedly true, that, the more
implicitly we obey the impulsions of conscience, the more
acute will be its power of discrimination, and the more
prompt and definite its decisions. This connection between
theoretical knowledge and practical application, is frequently
illustrated in the other faculties. He who delineates objects
of loveliness, finds the discriminating power of taste to
improve. And thus, also, this effect, in morals, is frequently alluded to in the Scriptures.
Our Savior declares, "If any man will do his will, he
shall know of the doctrine."
Thus, also, "Unto him*that hath, shall be given, and he
shall have abundance; but from him that hath not (that
is, does not improve what he has), shall be taken away
even that which he hath."
Thus, also, the Apostle Paul: "I beseech you therefore,
brethren, by the mercies of God, that ye present your
bodies a living sacrifice, holy and acceptable unto God,
which is your rational service; and be ye not conformed to
this world, but be ye transformed unto the renewing of your




ï~~76

ThE LAW BY WHICH

mind, that (so that, to the end that) ye may know what.
that good, and acceptable, and perfect will of the Lord."
III. The sensibility of conscience, as a source of pleasure or of pain, is strengthened by use, and weakened by
disuse..
The more frequently a man does right, the stronger is
his impulse to do right, and the greater is the pleasure that
results from the doing of it. A liberal man derives a pleasure
from the practice of charity, of which the covetous man
can form  no conception.   A beneficent man is made
happy by acts of self-denial and philanthropy, while a
selfish man performs an act of goodness by painful and
strenuous effort, and merely to escape the reproaches of
conscience. By the habitual exercise of the benevolent
affections, a man becomes more and more capacious of vircue, capable of higher and more disinterested and more
self-denying acts of mercy, until he becomes an enthusiast
n goodness, loving to do good better than any thing else.
And, in the same manner, the more our affections to God
are exercised, the more constant and profound is the
happiness which they create, and the more absolutely is
every other wish absorbed by the single desire to do the
will of God. Illustrations of these remarks may be found
in the lives of the Apostle Paul, John Howard, and other
philanthropists. Thus, it is said of our Savior, " He
went about doing good." And he says of himself, "1My
meat is to do the will of Him that sent me, and to finish
his work."
And it deserves to be remarked, that, in our presen
state, opportunities for moral improvement and moral pleasure are incessantly occurring. Under the present conditions
of our being, there are every wlere, and at all times, sick
to be relieved, mourners to be comforted, ignorant to be
taught, vicious to be reclaimed, and men, by nature enemies
to God, to be won back to reconciliation to Him. The
season for moral labor depends not, like that for physical
labor, upon vicissitudes beyond our control:. it depends
solely upon our own will. This I suppose to be the general principle involved in our Savior's remark to his Apos:tes:
SSay ye not, There are forr months, and then cometh the




ï~~CONSCIENCE IS GOVERNED

77

harvest? Lift up your eyes, and look upon tLe fields, for they
are white already to the harvest."  That is, the fields are
always waiting for the laborer in the moral harvest.
And, on the contrary, the man who habitually violates
his conscience, not only is more feebly impelled to do right,
but he becomes less sensible to the pain of doing wrong.
A child feels poignant remorse after the first act of pilfering. Let the habit of dishonesty be formed, and he will become so hackneyed in sin, that he will perpetrate robbery
with no other feeling than that of mere fear of detection.
The first oath almost palsies the tongue of the stripling. It
requires but a few months, however, to transform him into
the bold and thoughtless blasphemer. The murderer, after
the death of his first victim, is agitated with all the horrors
of guilt. He may, however, pursue his trade of blood,
until he have no more feeling for man, than the butcher for
the anima. which he slaughters. Burk, who was in the
habit of murdering men, for the purpose of selling their
bodies to the surgeons for dissection, confessed this of himself. Nor is this true of individuals alone. Whole communities may become so accustomed to deeds of violence,
as not merely to lose all the milder sympathies of their
nature, but also to take pleasure in exhibitions of the most
revolting ferocity. Such was the case in Rome at the
period of the gladiatorial contests; and such was the fact in
Paris at the time of the French revolution.
This also serves to illustrate a frequently repeated aphorism, Quem Deus vult perdere, prius dementat. As a mnian
becomes more wicked, he becomes bolder in crime. Unchecked by conscience, he ventures upon more and more
atrocious villany, and he does it with less and less precaution. As, in the earliest stages of guilt, he is betrayed by
timidity, in the later stages of it, he is exposed by his reck
lessness. He is thus discovered by the very effect which
his conduct is producing upon his own mind. Thus
oppressors and despots seem to rush upon their own ruin,
as though bereft of reason. Such limits has our Creator,
by the conditions )f our being, set to the range of human
atrocity.
Thus we see, that, oy every step in our progress in
7*




ï~~78

THE LAW BY WHICH, ETC.

virtue the succeeding step becomes less difficuit. In pro,
portioa as we deny our passions, they become less imperative. The oftener we conquer them, the less is the moral
effort necessary to secure the victory, and the less freyuently
and the less powerfully do they assail us. By every act
of successful resistance, we diminish the tremendous power
of habit over us, and thus become more perfectly under
the government of our own will. Thus, with every act of
obedience to conscience, our character is fixed upon a more
immovable foundation.
And, on the contrary, by every act of vicious indulgence,
we give our passions more uncontrolled power over us,
and diminish the power of reason and of conscience.
Thus, by every act of sin, we not only incur new guilt,
but we strengthen the bias towards sin, during the whole
of our subsequent being. Hence every vicious act renders
our return to virtue more difficult and more hopeless. The
tendency of such a course is, to give to habit the power
which ought to be exerted by our will. And, hence, it
is not improbable, that the conditions of our being may be
such, as to allow of our arriving at such a state, that
reformation may be actually impossible. That the Holy
Scriptures allude to such a condition during the present
life, is evident. Such, also, is probably the necessary condition of the wicked in another world.
In stating the change thus produced upon our moral
nature, it deserves to be remarked, that this loss of sensibility is, probably, only temporary. There is reason to
believe, that no impressions made upon the human soul,
during its present probationary state, are ever permanently
erased. Causes operating merely upon nmian's physical
nature, frequently revive whole trains of thought, and even
the knowledge of languages, which had been totally forgot
ten during the greater portion of a long life. This seems
to show, that the liability to lose impressions, once made
upon us, depends upon some condition arising from our
material nature only, and that this liability will cease as
soon as our present mode of existence terminates. Tha.
is to say, if the power of retaining knowledge is always
he same, but if our consciousness of knowledge is veiled




ï~~RULES FOR MORAL CONDUCT.

79!y o ir naterial organs, when these have been Ild aside,
our entire consciousness will return. Now, indications of
the same nature are to be found in abundance, with respect
to conscience. Wicked men, after having spent a life tn
prosperous guilt, and without being in trouble like other
men, are frequently, without any assignable cause, torminented with all the agonies of remorse; so that the mere
consciousness of guilt has become absolutely intolerable,
and they have perished by derangement, or by suicide.
The horrors of a licentious sinner's death bed, present a
striking illustration of the same solemn fact. A scene of
this sort has been, no less vividly than accurately, described
by Dr. Young, in the death of Altamont. All these things
should be marked by us as solemn warnings. They show
us of what the constitution, under which we exist, is capable; and it is in forms like these, that the "coming events"
of eternity "cast their shadows before."
In such indexes,
There is seen
The baby figures of the giant mass
Of things to come at large.
Snixs.
SECTION V.
RULES FOR MORAL CONDUCT, DERIVED FROM THE PRECEDING
REMARKS.
Severa. plain rules of conduct are suggested by the
above remarks, which may more properly be introduced
here, than in any other place.
I. Before you resolv upon an action, or a course of
action,
1. Cu'tivate the habit of deciding upon its moral character. Let the first question always be, Is this action right.
For this purpose, God gave you this faculty. If you do
not use i% vyou are false to yourself, and inexcusable before
God. We despise a man who never uses his reason, and




ï~~8O

RULES FOR MORAL CONDUCT.

scorn him as a fool. Is he not much more to be despised
who neglects to use a faculty of so much higher authority
than reason?  And let the question, Is this right? be
asked first, 'efore imagination has set before us the seductions of pleasure, or any step has been taken, which should
pledge our consistency of character.  If we ask this
question first, it can generally be decided with ease. If
we wait until the mind is agitated and harassed by contending emotions, it will not be easy to decide correctly.
2. Remember that your conscience has become imperfect, from  your frequent abuse of it. Hence, in many
cases, its discrimination will be indistinct, Instead of deciding, it will, frequently, only doubt. That doubt should be,
generally, as imperative as a decision. When you, therefore, doubt, respecting the virtue of an action, do not per
form it, unless you as much doubt whether you are at
liberty to refrain from it. Thus, says President Edwards,
in one of his resolutions: "Resolved, never to do any
thing, of which I so much question the lawfulness, as that
I intend, at the same time, to consider and examine afterwards, whether it be lawful or not; except I as much question the lawfulness of the omission."
3. Cultivate, on all occasions, in private or in public, in
small or great, in action or in thought, the habit of obeying
the monitions of conscience; all other things to the contrary notwithstanding.
Its slightest touches, instant pause;
Debar a' side pretences;
And, resolutely, keep its laws,
Uncaring consequences.
BURNs.
T'he supremacy of conscience imposes upon you the obligation to act thus. You cannot remember, in the course
of your whole life, an instance in which you regret having
obeyed it; and you cannot remember a single instance in
which you do not regret having disobeyed it., There can
nothing happen to you so bad as to have done wrong 4
there can nothing be gained so valuable as to have done
ight. And remember, that it is only by cultivating the
oractical supremacy of conscience over every other impulse,




ï~~RULES TOR MORAL CONDUCT.

81

that you can attain to that bold, simple, manly, elevated
character, which is essential to true greatness.
This has been firequently taught us, even by the heathen
poets:
Virtus, repulse nescia sordide,
Intaminatis fulget honoribus:
Nec sumit aut ponit secures
Arbitrio popularis aurae:
Virtus, recludens immeritis mori
Ccelum, negata tentat iter via;
Caetusque vulgares et udam
Spernit humum fugiente penna.
HOR. Lib. 3, Car. 2.
A greater than a heathen has said, "If ttine eye be single,
thy whole body shall be full of light;" and has enforced
the precept by the momentous question, "What shall it
profit a man, though he should gain the whole world, and
lose his own soul? or what shall a man give in exchange
for his soul?"
II. After an action has been performed,
1. Cultivate the habit of reflecting upon your actions,
and upon the intention with which they have been performed, and of thus deciding upon their moral character.
This is called self-examination.  It is one of the most
mportant duties in the life of a moral, and specially of a
probationary existence.
'Tis greatly wise, to talk with our past hours,
And ask them what report they bore to Heaven,
And how they might have borne more welcome news.
a Perform this duty deliberately. It is not the business
of hurry or of negligence. Devote time exclusively to it.
Go alone. Retire within yourself, and weigh your actions
coolly and carefully, forgetting all other things, in the conviction that you are a moral and an accountable being.
b. Do it impartially.  Remember that you are liable
to be misled by the seductions of passion, and the allurements of self-interest. Put yourself in the place of those
around you, and put others in your ow- place, and remark
how you would thin consider your actions. Pay great




ï~~RULES FOR MORAL CONDUCT.

attention to fat opinio -s of your enemies: there is generally
fouLdation, or, at east, the appearance of it, in wnat they
say of you. But, above all, take the true and perfect
standard of mora.. character, exhibited in the precepts of
the gospel, and exemplified in the life of Jesus Christ; and
thus examine your conduct by the light that emanates from
the holiness of heaven.
2. Suppose you have examined yourself, and arrived
at a decision respecting the moral character of your actions.
1. If you are conscious of having done right, be thank
ful to that God who has mercifully enabled you to do so.
Observe the peace and serenity which fills your bosom,
and remark how greatly it overbalances the self-denials
which it has cost. Be humbly thankful that you have
made some progress in virtue.
2. If the character of your actions have been mixed,
that is, if they have proceeded from motives partly good
and partly bad, labor to obtain a clear view of each, and
of the circumstances which led you to confound them.
Avoid the sources of this confusion; and, when you per
form the same actions again, be specially on your guard
against the influence of any motive of which you now
disapprove.
3. If conscience convicts you of having acted wrongly,
1. Reflect upon the wrong, survey the obligations which
you have violated, until you are sensible of your guilt.
2. Be willing to suffer the pains of conscience. They
are the rebukes of a friend, and are designed to withhold
you from the commission of wrong in future. Neither turn
a neglectful ear to its monitions, nor drown its voice amid
the bustle of business, or the gayety of pleasure.
3. Do not let the subject pass away from your thoughts
antil you have come to a settled resolution, a resolution
founded on moral disapprobation of the action, never to do,o any more.
4. If restitution be in your power, make it, without
hesitation, and do it immediately. The least that a man
ought to be sa.isfied with, who has done wrong, is to repair
the wrong as soon as it is possible.
5. As every actof wrong is a sin against God, seek, in hum




ï~~RULES FOR MORAL CONDUCT.

83

ble penitence, his pardon, through the mer'ts and inte cession of his Son, Jesus Christ.
6. Remark the actions, or the courses of thinking, which
were the occasions of leading you to do wrong. Be
specially careful to avoid them in future. To this effect,
*says President Edwards, "Resolved, that when I do any
conspicuously evil action, to trace it back, till I come to
the original cause; and then both carefully endeavor to do
so no more, and to fight and pray, with all my might,
against the original of it."
7. Do all this, in humble dependence upon that merciful
and every where present Being, who is always ready to
grant us all assistance necessary to keep his commandments;
and who will never leave us, nor forsake us, if we put our
trust in him.
It seems, then, from what has been remarked, that we
are all endowed with conscience, or a faculty for discerning
a moral quality in human actions, impelling us towards
right, and dissuading us from wrong; and that the dictates
of this faculty are felt and known to be of supreme authority.
The,possession of this faculty renders us accountable
creatures. Without it, we should not be specially distinguished from the brutes. With it, we are brought into
moral relations with God, and all the moral intelligences in
the universe.
It is an ever-present faculty. It always admonishes us,
if we will listen to its voice, and frequently does so, even
when we wish to silence its warnings. Hence, we may
always know our duty, if we will but inquire for it. We
can, therefore, never have any excuse for doing wrong,
since no man need do wrong, unless he chooses; and no
man will do it ignorantly, unless from crimin.l neglect ol
the faculty which God has given him.
How solemn is the thought, that we are endowed with
such a faculty, and that we can never be disunited from it!.t goes with us through all the scenes of life, in company
and alone, admonishing, warning, reproving, and recording:
and, as % source of happiness or of misery, it must abide




ï~~84

RU ES FOR MORAL CONDUCT.

with us for ever. Well doth it become man, then, to reverence himself.
And thus we see, that, from his moral constitution, were
there no other means of knowledge of duty, man is an
accountable creature. Man is under obligation to obey the
will of God, in what manner soever signified. That it issignified in this manner, I think there cannot be a question;
and for this knowledge he is justly held responsible. Thus,
the Apostle Paul declares, that "the Gentiles, who have
not the law, are a law unto themselves, which show the
work of the Lw, written on their hearts, their consciences
being continually excusing or accusing one another."  How
much greater must be the responsibility of those to whom
God has given the additional light of natural and revealed
religion!




ï~~CHAPTER THIRD.

THE   NATURE      OF V RTUE.
SECTION I.
OF VIRV'LUE IN GENERAL.
IT has been already remarked, that we find ourselves so
constituted, as to stand in various relations to all the beings
around us, especially to our fellow-men, and to God.
There may be, and there probably are, other beings, to
whom, by our creation, we are related: but we, as yet,
have no information on the subject; and we must wait
until we enter upon another state, before the fact, and the
manner of the fact, be revealed.
In consequence of these relations, and either by the
appointment of God, or from the necessity of the case,-if,
indeed, these terms mean any thing different from each
other,-there arise moral obligations to exercise certain affections towards other beings, and to act towards them in a
manner corresponding to those affections. Thus, we are
taught in the Scriptures, that the relation in which we
stand to Deity, involves the obligation to universal and unlimited obedience and love; and that the relation in which
we stand to each other, involves the obligation to love,
limited and restricted; and, of course, to a mode of conduct,
in all respects, correspondent to these affectior s.
An action is right, when it corresponds to these obligations, or, which is the same thing, is the carrying into effect
of these affections. It is wrong, when it is in violation of
these obligations, or is the carrying into effect of any other
affections.
By means of our intellect, we become conscious of the
8




ï~~86

Or VIRTUE IN GENERAL.

relations in which we stand to the beings with wuom wv
are connected. Thus, by the exertion of our intellectual
faculties, we become acquainted with the existence and
attributes of God, his power, his wisdom, his goodness,
and it is by these same faculties, tnat we understand and
verify those declarations of the Scriptures, which give us
additional knowledge of his attributes; and by which we
arrive at a knowledge of the conditions of our being, as
creatures, and also of the various relations in which we
stand to each other.
Conscience, as has been remarked, is that faculty by
which we become conscious of the obligations arising from
these relations; by which we perceive the quality of right
in those actions which correspond to these obligations, and
of wrong in those actions which violate them; and by
which we are impelled towards the one, and repelled from
the other. It is, manifestly, the design of this faculty to
suggest to us this feeling of obligation, as soon as the relations on which it is founded, are understood; and thus to
excite in us the corresponding affections.
Now, in a perfectly constituted moral and intellectual
being, it is evident, that there would be a perfect adjustment between these external qualities and the internal
faculties. A perfect eye is an eye that, under the proper
conditions, would discern every variety and shade of color,
in every object which it was adapted to perceive.  The
same remark would apply to our hearing, or to any other
sense. So, a perfectly constituted intellect would, under
the proper conditions, discern the relations in which the
being stood to other beings; and a perfectly constituted
conscience would, at the same time, become conscious of all
the obligations which arose firom such relations, and would
impel us to the corresponding courses of conduct. That
is, there would exist a perfect adaptation between the
external qualities which were addressed to these faculties,
and the faculties themselves, to which these qualities were
addressed.
Hence, in a being thus perfectly constituted, it is m ni
fest, that virtue, the doing of right, or obedience: to con
science, would mean the same thing.




ï~~OF VIRTUE IN GENERAL.

When, however, we speak of the perfection of a moran
organization, we speak of the perfection of adjustment between the faculty of conscience, and the relations and obligations under which the particular being is created. Hence,
this very perfection admits of various gradations and modifications. For example:
1. The relations of the same being change, during the
progress of its existence, from infancy, through childhood
and manhood, until old age. This change of relations
involves a change of obligations; and the perfection of its
moral organization would consist in the perfect adjustment
of its moral faculty to its moral relations, throughout the
whole course of its history. Now, the tendency of this
change is, manifestly, from less to greater; that is, from
less imperative to more imperative, and from less numerous
to more numerous obligations. That is, the tendency of
the present system is to render beings more and more capacious of virtue and of vice, as. far as we are permitted to
have any knowledge of them.
2. As it is manifestly impossible for us to conceive either
how numerous, or how important, may be our relations to
other creatures, in another state, or how much more intimate
may be the relations in which we shall stand to our Creator; and, as there can be no limit conceived to our power
of comprehending these relations, nor to our power of becoming conscious of the obligations which they involve;
so, it is manifest, that no limit can be conceived to the
progress of man's capacity for virtue. It evidently contains
within itself elements adapted to infinite improvement, min
any state in which we may exist.
3. And the same may be said of vice. As our obliga
tions must, from what we already know, continue to increase, and our power for recognizing them must also
continue to increase; if we perpetually violate them, we
become more and more capable of wrong; and thus, also,
become more and more intensely vicious. And thus, the
very elements of a moral constitution, seem to involh e the
necessity of illimitable progress, either in virtue or in vice,
so long as we exist.
4. And as, on the one hand, we can have no conception




ï~~88        OF VIRTUE IN IMPERFECT BEINGS.
of the amount of attainment, both in virtue and vice, of
which man is capable, so, on the other hand, we can have
no conception of the delicacy of that moral tinge by which
his character is first designated. We detect moral character
at a very early age; but this by no means proves, that it
aid not exist long before we detected it. Hence, as it may
thus have existed before we were able to detect it, it is
manifest that we have no elements oy which to determine
the time of its commencement. That is to say, in general,
we are capable of observing moral qualities within certain
limits, as from childhood to old age; but this is no manner
of indication that these qualities may not exist in the being
both before, and afterwards,i m degrees greatly below and
infinitely above any thing which we are capable of observing.
SECTION II.
-       OF VIRTUE IN IMPERFECT BEINGS.
Let us now consider this subject in relation to a being
whose moral constitution has become disordered.
Now, this disorder might be of two kinds:
1. He might not perceive all the relations in which he
stood, and which gave rise to moral obligations, and, of
course, would be unconscious of the corresponding ooliga
tions.
2. He might perceive the relation, but his conscience
might be so disordered, as not to feel all the obligation
which corresponded to it.
What shall we say concerning the actions of such a
being?
1. The relations under which he is constituted are the
same, and the obligations arising out of these relations are
the same, as though his moral constitution had not become
disordered.
2. His actions would all be comprehended under two.,,~sse:




ï~~OF VIRTUE IN IMPERFECT BEINGS.

89

1. Those which came, if I may so express it, within
the limit of his conscience; that is, those in which his
conscience did correctly intimate to him his obligation; and,
2. Those in which it did not so intimate it.
Now, of the first class of actions, it is manifest that, where
consLience did correctly intimate to him his obligations, the
going of right, and obedience to conscience, would, as in
the last section, be equivalent terms.
But, what shall we say of those without this limit; that
is, of those which he, from the conditions of his being, is
under obligation to perform; but of which, from the derangement of his moral nature, he does not perceive the
obligation?
1. Suppose him to perform these very actions, there
could be in them no virtue; for, the man perceiving,. them
no moral Iuality, and having towards them no moral impulsion, moral obligation could be no motive for performing
them. He might act from passion, or from self-love; but,
under such circumstances, as there is no moral motive,
there could be no praiseworthiness. Thus, for a judge to do
justice to a poor widow, is manifestly right; but, a man
may do this without any moral desert; for, hear what the
unjust judge saith: "Though I fear not God, nor regard
man, yet, because this widow troubleth me, I will avenge
her, lest, by her continual coming, she weary me."
It does not, however, follow, that the performing of an
action, in this manner, is innocent. The relation in which
a being stands to other beings, involves the obligation to
certain feelings, as well as to the acts correspondent to those
feelings. If the act be performed, and the feeling be
wanting, the obligation is not fulfilled, and the man may be
guilty. How far he is guilty will be seen below.
2. But, secondly, suppose him not to perform those ac
tions, which are, as we have said, without the limit of his
conscience. In how far is the omission of these actions, or
the doing of the contrary, innocent? That is to say, is the
impulse of conscience, in an imperfectly constituted morn
oeing, the limit of moral obligation?
This will, I suppose, depend upon th following considerations:




ï~~90       OF VIRTUE IN IMPERFECT BEINGS.

1. His knowledge of the relations in which he stands.
If he know not the relations in which he stands to others,
and have not the means of knowing them, he is guiltless.
If he know them, or have the means of knowing them, and
have not improved these means, he is guilty. This is, I
think, the principle asserted by the Apostle Paul, in his
Epistle to the Romans. He asserts, that the heathen are
guilty in sinning against God, because His attributes may
be known by the light of nature. He also asserts that
there will be a difference between the condemnation of the
Jews and that of the heathen, on the ground that the Jews
were informed of many points of moral obligation, which
the heathen could not have ascertained, without a reVelation: "Those that sin without law, shall perish without law;
and those that have sinned in the law, shall be judged
by the law."
2. His guilt will depend, secondly, on the cause of this
imperfection of his conscience.
Were this imperfection of conscience not the result of his
own act, he would be guiltless. But, in just so far as it is
the result of his own conduct, he is responsible.  And,
inasmuch as imperfection of conscience, or diminution of
moral capacity, can result from nothing but voluntary transgression; I suppose that he must be answerable for the
whole amount of that imperfection. We have already seen,
that conscience may be improved by use, and injured by
disuse, or by abuse. Now, as a man is entitled to all the
benefits which accrue from the faithful improvement of hi
conscience, so he is responsible for all the injury that results
firom the abuse of it.
That this is the fact, is, I think, evident, from obvious
considerations:
1. It is well known, that the repetition of wickedness
produces great stupidity of conscience, or, as it is frequently
termed, hardness of heart. But no one ever considers this
stupidity as in any manner an excuse. It is, on the contrary, always held to be an aggravation of crime. Thus,
we term a man, who has become so accustomed to crime,
that he will commix murder without feeling and without
regret, a remorseless murderer, a cold-blooded assassin; and




ï~~OF VIRTUE IN IMPERFECT BEINGS.

91

every one knows that, by these epithets, we mean to des.
ignate a special and additional element of guiltiness. This
I take to be the universal sentiment of man.
2. The assertion of the contrary would lead to results
manifestly erroneous.
Suppose two men, of precisely the same moral attainments, to-day, to commence, at the same time, two courses
of conduct, diametrically opposed to each other. The first,
by the scrupulous doing of right, cultivates, to the utmost,
his moral nature, and increases, with every day, his capacity for virtue. The sphere of his benevolent affections enlarges, and the play of his moral feelings necomes more
and more intense, until he is filled with the most ardent
desire to promote the welfare of every fellow-creature, and
to do the will of God with his whole heart. The other, by
a continued course of crime, gradually destroys the susceptibility of his conscience, and lessens his capacity for
virtue, until his soul is filled with hatred to God, and no
other feeling of obligation remains, except that of fidelity to
his copartners in guilt.
Now, at the expiration of this period, if both of these mea
should act according to what each felt to be the dictate of
conscience, they would act very differently. But, if a man
can be under obligation to do, and to leave undone, nothing
but what his conscience, at a particular moment, indicates,
I do not see but that these men would be, in the actions of
that moment, equally innocent. The only difference between them, so far as the actions of a particular moment
were concerned, wo ild be the difference between a virtuous
man and a virtuous child.
From these facts, we are easily led to the distinction between right and wrong, and innocence and guilt. "Right
and wrong depend upon the relations under which beings
are created; and, hence, the obligations resulting from these
relations are, in their nature, fixed and unchangeable.
Guilt and innocence depend upon the knowledge of these
relations, and of the obligations arising from them. As
these are manifestly susceptible of variation, while right
and wrong are invariable, the two notions may manifestly
not always eorrespond to each other.




ï~~92       OF VIRTUE IN IMPERFECT BEINGS.

Thus, for example, an action may be wrong; but, if the
actor have no means of knowing it to be wrong, he is held
morally guiltless, in the doing of it. Or, again, a man may
have a consciousness of obligation, and a sincere desire to
act in conformity to it; and may, from ignorance of the
way in which that obligation is to be discharged, perform
an act in its nature wrong; yet, if he have acted according
to the best of his p:ssible knowledge, he may not only be
held guiltless, but even virtuous. And, on the contrary, ii
a man do what is actually right, but without a desire to
fulfil the obligation of which he is conscious, he is held to
be guilty; for he has not manifested a desire to act in
obedience to the obligations under which he knew himself
to be created. Illustrations of these remarks may be easily
drawn from the ordinary affairs of life, or from the Scriptures
And, hence, we also arrive at another principle, of importance in our moral judgments, namely, that our own consciousness of innocence, or our not being conscious of guilt,
is by no means a sufficient proof of our innocence. A man
may never have reflected on the relations in which he
stands to other men, or to God; and, hence, may be conscious of no feeling of obligation toward either, in any or in
particular respects. This may be the fact; but his innocence would not be established, unless he can also show
that he has faithfully and impartially used all the powers
which God has given him, to obtain a knowledge of these
relations. Or, again, he may understand the relation, and
have no corresponding sensibility. This may be the fact;
but his innocency would not be established, unless he can
also show that he has always faithfully and honestly obeyed
his conscience, so that his moral insensibility is, in no manner, attributable to his own acts. Until these things can
be shown, the want of consciousness of guilt will be no
proof of innocence. To this principle, if I mistake not, the
Apostle Paul alludes, in 1 Cor. iv. 3, 4: "But with me, it
is)a very small thing to be judged of you, or of man's judginent: yea, I judge not my ownself, for I know nothing
of my ownself (or, rather, I am conscious of nothing wrong
mn myself; that is, of no unfaithfulness in office); yet, am
 wit hereby justified: but he that judgeth me is the Lou "




ï~~)F VIRTUE IN IMPERFECT BEINGb.

93

And, thus, a man may do great wrong, and be deeply
guilty, in respect to a whole class of obligations, without
being, in any painful degree, sensible of it. Such I think
to be the moral state in which men, in general, are, in
respect to their obligations to God. Thus, saith our Savior
to the Jews: "I know you, that ye have not the love of
God in you;" while they were supposing themselves to
be the special favorites of Heaven.
From these remarks, we may also learn the relation in
which beings, created as we are, stand to moral law.
Man is created with moral and intellectual powers, capable of progressive improvement. Hence, if he use his
faculties as he ought, he will progressively improve; that
is, become more and more capable of virtue. He is assured
of enjoying all the benefits which can result from such
improvement. If he use these faculties as he ought not,
and become less and less capable of virtue, he is hence held
responsible for all the consequences of his misimprovement.
Now, as this misimprovement is his own act, for which
he is responsible, it manifestly does not affect the relations
under which he is created, nor the obligations resulting from
these relations; that is, he stands, in respect to the moral
requirements under which he is created, precisely in the
same condition as if he had always used his moral powers
correctly. That is to say, under the present moral constitution, every man is justly held responsible, at every period
of his existence, for that degree of virtue of which he would
have been capable, had he, from the first moment of his
existence, improved his moral nature, in every respect, just
as he ought to have done. In other words, suppose some
human being to have always lived thus, (Jesus Christ, Ljr
nstance,) every man, supposing him to have the same means
of knowing his duty, would, at every successive period of his
existence, be held responsible for the same degree of virtue
as such   perfect being attained to, at the corresponding
periods of his existence. Such I think evidently to be the
nature of the obligation which must rest upon such beings,
throughout the whole extent of their duration.
In order to meet this increasing responsibility, in such a
manner as to fulfil the requirements of moral law, a being




ï~~14       OF VIRTUE IN IMPERFECT BEINGS

under -rich a constitutior., must, at every moment of his
existence, 'ossess a moral faculty, which, by perfect previous cultiva:ion, is adapted to the responsibilities of that
particular moment. But, suppose this not to have been
the case; and that, on the contrary, his moral faculty, by
once doing wrong, has become impaired, so that it either
does not admonish him correctly of his obligations, or that
he has become indisposed to obey its monitions. This
must, at the next moment, terminate in action more at
variance with rectitudd than before. The adjustment between conscience and the passions, must become deranged;
and thus, the tendency, at every successive moment, must
be, to involve him deeper and deeper in guilt. And, unless
some other moral force be exerted in the case, such must
be the tendency for ever.
And suppose some such force to be exerted, and, at any
period of his existence, the being to begin to obey his conscience in every one of its present monitions. It is manifest, that he would now need some other and more perfect
guide, in order to inform him perfectly of his obligations,
and of the mode in which they were to be fulfilled. And,
supposing this to be done: as he is at this moment responsible for such a capacity for virtue, as would have been
attained by a previously perfect rectitude; and as his capacity is inferior to this; and as no reason can be suggested,
why his progress in virtue should, under these circumstances, be more rapid than that of a perfect being, but the
contrary; it is manifest, that he must ever fall short of what
is justly required of him,--nay, that he must be continually
falling farther and farther behind it.
And hence, the present constitution tends to show us
the remediless nature of moral evil, under the government
of God, unless some other principle, than that of law, be
admitted into the case. These conditions of being having
been violated, unless man be placed under some other conditions, natural religion would lead us to believe, that he
must suffer the penalty, whatever it be, of wrong. Penit ance could in no manner alter his situation; for it is merely
a temper justly demanded, in consequence of his sin. But
this could not replace him in his original relation to the law




ï~~OF VIRTUE IN IMPERFECT BEINGS.

95

which had been violated. Such seems to be the teachings
of the Holy Scriptures; and they seem to me to declare,
moreover, that this change in the conditions of our being,
has been accomplished by the mediation of a Redeemer,
by which change of conditions we may, through the
obedience of another, be justified (that is, treated as though
just), although we are, by confession, guilty.
And hence, although it were shown that a man was, at
any pa:ticular period of his being, incapable of that, degree
of virtue which the law of God required, it would neither
follow that he was not under obligation to exercise it, nor
that he was not responsible for the whole amount of that
exercise of it; since, if he have dwarfed his own powers,
he is responsible for the result. And, conversely, if God
require this whole amount of virtue, it will not prove that
man is now capable of exercising it; but only, that he is
either thus capable, or, that he would have been so, if he
had used correctly the powers which God gave him.
A few suggestions respecting the moral relations of habit,
will close this discussion.
Some of the most important facts respecting habit, are
the following:
It is found to be the fact, that the repetition of any
physical act, at stated periods, and especially after brief
intervals, renders the performance of the act easier; it is
act omplished in less time, with less effort, with less expe ise of nervous power,;and of mental energy. This is
exemplified, every day, in the acquisition of the mechanical arts, and in learning the rudiments of music. And
whoever will remark, may easily be convinced, that a great
part of our education, physical and intellectual, in so far as
it is valuable, consists in the formation of habits.
The same remarks apply, to a very considerable extent,
to moral habits.
The repetition of a virtuous act produces a tendency to
continued repetition; the force of opposing motives is lessened; the power of the will over passion is more decided;
and the act is accomplished with less moral effort. Perhaps
we should express the fact truly, by saying, that, by the
repetition of virtuous acts, moral power is gained; while




ï~~96

OF VIRTUE IN IMPERFECT BEINGS.

for the performance of the same acts, less moral power is
required.
On the contrary, by the repetition of vicious acts, a
tendency is created towards such repetition; the power of
the passions is increased; the power of opposing forces is
diminished; and the resistance to passion requires a greater
moral 'effort; or, as in the contrary of the preceding case,
a greater moral effort is required to resist our passiqns,
while the moral power to resist them is diminished.
Now, the obvious nature of such a tendency is, to arrive
at a fixed and unalterable moral state.   Be the fact
accounted for as it may, I think that habit has an effect
upon the will, such as to establish a tendency towards the
impossibility to resist it. Thus, the practice of virtue
seems to tend towar'ds rendering a man incapable of vice,
and the practice of vice towards rendering a man incapable of virtue. It is common to speak of a man as incapable of meanness; and I think we see men as often, in the
same sense, incapable of virtue. And, if I mistake not,
we always speak of the one incapacity as an object of
praise, and of the other as an object of blame.
It we inquire, what are the moral effects of such a condition of our being, I think we shall find them to be as
follows:
1. Habit cannot alter the nature of an acti6n, as right
or wrong. It can alter neither our relations to our fellowcreatures, nor to God, nor the obligations consequent upon
those relations. Hence, the character of the action must
remain unaffected.
2. Nor can it alter the guilt or innocence of the action.
As he who acts virtuously, is entitled to the benefit of
virtuous action, among which the tendency to virtuous
action is included; so, he who acts viciously, is responsible for all the consequences of vicious action, the correspondent tendency to vicious action also included. The
conditions being equal, and he being left to his own free
choice, the consequences of either course rest justly upon
himself.
The final causes of such a constitution are also apparent.
1. It is manifestly and precisely adapted to our present




ï~~OF VIRTUE IN IMPERFECT BEINGS.

state, when considered as probationary, and capable of
moral changes, and terminating in one where moral tlange
is impossible. The constitution under which we are placed,
presents us with the apparent paradox of a state of ince
sant moral change, in which every individual change hr
a tendency to produce a state that is unchangeable.
2. The fact of such a constitution is, manifestly, in
tended to present the strongest possible incentives to virtue
and monitions against vice. It teaches us that conse
quences are attached to every act of both, not only present
but future, and, so far as we can see, interminable. As
every one can easily estimate the pleasures of vice and
the pains of virtue, both in extent and duration; but, as
no one, taking into consideration the results of the tendency which each will produce, can estimate the interminable consequences which must arise from either,-there is,
therefore, hence derived the strongest possible reason, why
we should always do right, and never do wrong.
3. And again. It is evident, that our capacity for increase in virtue, depends greatly upon the present constitution, in respect to habit. I have remarked, that the effect
of the repetition of virtuous action, was to give us greater
moral power, while the given action itself required less
moral effort. There, hence, arises, if I may so say, a
surplus of moral power, which may be applied to the accomplishment of greater moral achievements.  He who has
overcome one evil temper, has acquired moral power to
overcome another; and that which was first subdued, is
kept in subjection without a struggle. He who has formed
one habit of virtue practises it, without effort, as a matter
of course, or of original impulse; and the power thus
acquired, may be applied to the attainment of other and
more difficult habits, and the accomplishment of higher
and more arduous moral enterprises. He who desires to
see the influence of habit illustrated, with great beauty and
accuracy, will be gratified by the perusal of "The Hermit
of Teneriffe," one of the most delightful allegories to be
found in the English language.
The -elation between the moral and the intellectual
9




ï~~98       OF VIRTUE IN IMPEHRVFF( T BEINGS.

powers, in the moral conditions of our being; may.e hu
briefly stated:
1. We are created under certain relations to our Creator,
and to our fellow-creatures.
2. We are created under certain obligations to ou;
Creator, and our fellow-creatures, in consequence of these
relations,-obligations to exercise certain affections, and to
maintain courses of action correspondent to those affections.
3. By means of our intellectual powers, we perceive
these relations.
4. By means of our moral powers, we become conscious
of these obligations.
5. The consciousness of these obligations alone, would
not always teach us how they were to be discharged; as,
for example, the consciousness of our obligations to God,
would not teach us how God should be worshipped, and
so in various other cases. It is by the use of the powers
of our intellect, that we learn how these moral affections
are to be carried into action. The use of the intellect is,
therefore, twofold. First, to discover to us our relations.
Secondly, to discover in what manner our obligations are to
be discharged.




ï~~99

CHAPTER FOURTH.
HUMAN HAPPINESS.
WE have already, on several occasions, alluded to the
fact, that God has created every thing double; a world
without us, and a correspondent world within us. He has
made light without, and the eye within; beauty without,
and taste within; moral qualities in actions, and conscience
to judge of them; and so of every other case. By means
of this correspondence, our communication with the external
world exists.
These internal powers are called into exercise by the
presence of their correspondent external objects. Thus, the
organ of vision is excited by the presence of light, the sense
of smell by odors, the faculty of taste by beautyorbydeform.
ity, and so of the rest.
The first effect of this exercise of these. faculties is, that
we are conscious of the existence and qualities of surrounding objects. Thus, by sight, we become conscious of the
existence and colors of visible objects; by hearing, of the
existence and sound of audible objects, &c. -
But, it is manifest, that this knowledge of the existence
and qualities of external objects is far from being all the
intercourse which we are capable of holding with them.
This knowledge of their existence and qualities is, most
frequently, attended with pleasure or pain, desire or aversion. Sometimes the mere perception itself is immediately pleasing; in other cases, it is merely the sign of some
other quality which has the power of pleasing us. In the
first case, the perception produces gratification; in the other,
it awakens desire.
That is, we stand in such relations to the external world,
that certain objects, besides being capable of being perceived, are also capable of giving us pleasure; and certai-i




ï~~DO0

HIUMAN HAPPINESS.

other objects, besides being perceived, are capal le of giving
us pain. Or, to state the same truth in the other fonrm, we
are so made as to be capable, not only of perceiving, but
also of being pleased with, or pained by, the various objects
by which we are surrounded.
This general power of being pleased or pained, may be,
and I think frequently is, termed sensitiveness.
This sensitiveness, or the power of being made happy by
surrounding objects, is intimately connected with the exercise of our various faculties. Thus, the pleasure of vision
cannot be enjoyed in any other manner, than by the exercise of the faculty of sight. The pleasure of knowledge can
be enjoyed in no other way, than by the exercise of the intellectual powers. The pleasure of beauty can be enjoyed
in no other manner, than by the exercise of the faculty of
taste, and of the other subordinate faculties on which this
faculty depends. And thus, in general, our sensitiveness
derives pleasure from the exercise of those powers which are
made necessary for our existence and well-being in our
present state.
Now, I think that we can have no other idea of happiaess than the exercise of this sensitiveness upon its corresponding objects and qualities. It is the gratification of
desire, the enjoyment of what we love; or, as Dr. Johnson remarks, "Happiness consists in the multiplication of
agreeable consciousness."
It seems, moreover, evident, that this very constitution is
to us an indication of the will of our Creator; that is, inasmuch as he has created us with these capacities for happiness, and has also created objects around us precisely
adapted to these capacities, he meant that the one should De
exercised upon the other; that is, that we should be made
happy in this manner.
And this is more evident, from considering that this happiness is intimately connected with the exercise of those
faculties, the employment of which is necessary to our ex
istence and our well-being. It thus becomes the incitement
to or the reward of certain courses of conduct, whichl it i
necessary, to our own welfare, or to that of society ttipt
we shoula pursue




ï~~HUMAN HAPPINESS.

i1l

And thus we arrive at the general principle, that our
desire for a particular object, and the existence of the object
adapted to this desire, is, in itself, a reason why we should
enjoy that object, in the same manner as our aversion to
another object, is a reason why we should avoid it. There
may sometimes be, it is true, other reasons to the contrary,
more authoritative than that emanating from this desire or
aversion, and these may and ought to control it; but this
does not show that this desire is not a reason, and a suffi
cient one, if no better reason can be shown to the contrary
But, if we consider the subject a little more minutely, we
shall find that the simple gratification of desire, in the manner above stated, is not the only condition on which our
happiness depends.
We find, by experience, that a desire or appetite may be
so gratified as for ever afterwards to destroy its power of
producing happiness. Thus, a certain kind of food is
pleasant to me; this is a reason why I should partake of it.
But I may eat of it to excess, so as to loathe it for ever
afterwards, and thus annihilate, in my constitution, this
mode of gratification. Now, the same reasoning which
proves that God intended me to partake of this food,
namely, because it will promote my happiness, also proves
that he did not intend me to partake of it after this manner;
for, by so doing, I have diminished, by this whole amount,
my capacity for happiness, and thus defeated, in so far, the
very end of my constitution. Or, again, though I may not
destroy my desire for a particular kind of food, by a particular manner of gratification, yet I may so derange my
system, that the eating of it shall produce pain and distress,
so that it ceases to be to me a source of happiness, upon
the whole. In this case, I equally defeat the design of my
constitution  The result equally shows that, although the
Creator means that I should eat it, he does not mean that
I should eat it in this manner.
Again, every man is created with various and dissimilar
forms of desire, correspondent to the different external
objects designed to promote his happiness. Now, it is
found that one form of desire may be gratified in such a
manner, as to destroy the power of rece'ving happiness from
9*
" " 0 000:
09   *e e @0




ï~~102

HUMAN HAPPINESS.

another; or, on the contrary, the first may 1e so gratified
as to leave the other powers of receiving happiness unmm
paired. Since, then, it is granted that these were all given
us for the same end, namely, to promote our happiness, if
by the first manner of gratification, we destroy another
power" of gratification, while, by the second manner of
gratification, we leave the other power of gratification uninjured, it is evidently the design of our Creator that we
should limit ourselves to this second mode of gratification.
Thus, I am so formed that food is pleasant to me. This,
even if there were no necessity for eating, is a reason why
I should eat it. But I am also formed with a desire for
knowledge. This is a reason why I should study in order
to obtain it. That is, God intended me to derive happiness from both of these sources of gratification. If, then, I
eat in such a manner that I cannot study, or study in such
a manner that I cannot eat, in either case, I defeat his
design concerning me, by destroying those sources of happiness with which he has created me. The same principle
might be illustrated in various other instances.
Again, we find that the indulgence of any one form of
gratification, in such manner as to destroy the power of
another form of gratification, also in the end diminishes, and
frequently destroys, the power of deriving happiness, even
f om that which is indulged. Thus, he who eats so as to
injure his power of intellectual gratification, injures also his
digestive organs, and produces disease, so that his pleasure
from eating is diminished. Or, he who studies so as to
destroy his appetite, in the end destroys also his power of
study. This is another and distinct reason, to show, that,
while I am designed to be happy by the gratification of my
desires, I am also designed to be happy by gratifying them
within a limit. The limit to gratification enters into my
constitution, as a being designed for happiness, just as much
as the power of gratification itself.
And again, our Creator has endowed us with an additional and superior power, by which we can contemplate
these two courses of conduct; by which we can approve
of the one, and disapprove of the other; and by which the
ono becomes a source of pleasure and the other a source of......:::..I '




ï~~HUMAN HAPPINESS.

103

pain; both being separate and distinct from the sources of
pain and pleasure mentioned above. And, moreover, he
has so constituted us, that this very habit of regulating and
limiting our desires, is absolutely essential to our success in
every undertaking. Both of these are, therefore, additional
and distinct reasons for believing, that the restriction of our
desires within certain limits, is made, by our Creator, as
clearly necessary to our happiness, as the indulgence of
them.
All this is true, if we consider tne happiness of man
merely as an individual. But the case is rendered still
stronger, if we look upon man as a society. It is manifest
that the universal gratification of any single appetite or
passion, without limit, not to say the gratification of all,
would, in a very few years, not only destroy society, but
absolutely put an end to the whole human race. And,
hence, we see that the limitation of our desires is not onl)
necessary to our happiness, but also to our existence.
Hence, while it is the truth, that human happiness consists in the gratification of our desires, it is not the whole
truth. It consists in the gratification of our desires within
the limits assigned to them  by our Creator. And, the
happiness of that man will be the most perfect, who regu
lates his desires most perfectly in accordance with the
laws under which he has been created. And, hence, the
greatest happiness of which man is, in his present state,
capable, is to be attained by conforming his whole conduct
t) the laws of virtue, that is, to the will of God.
b Â~:...::     oo:.




ï~~104

S.   CHAPTER FIFTH.
OF SELF-LOVE.
By the term sensitiveness, I have designated t2e capac'ty
of our nature to derive happiness from the varous obiects
and quahlities of the world around us. Though intimately
associated with those powers by which we obtain a knowledge of external objects, it differs from them. When a
desire for gratification is excited by its appropriate objects,
it is termed appetite, passion, &c.
As our means of gratification are various, and are also
attended by different effects, there is evidently an opportunity for a choice between them. By declining a gratification at present, we may secure one of greater value at some
future time. That which is, at present, agreeable, may be
of necessity followed by pain; and that which is, at pres
ent, painful, may be rewarded by pleasure which shall far
overbalance it.
Now, it must be evident, to every one who will reflect,
that my happiness, at any one period of my existence, is
just as valuable as my happiness at the present period.
No one can conceive of any reason, why the present moment should take the precedence, in any respect, of any
other moment of my being. Every moment of my past
life was once present, and seemed of special value; but, in
the retrospect, all seem, so far as the happiness of each is
concerned, of equal value. Each of those to come may,
in its turn, claim some pre-eminence; though, now, we
plainly discover in anticipation, that no one is more thai
another entitled to it. Nay, if there be any difference, it is
manifestly in favor of the most distant future, in comparison
with the present. The longer we exist, the greater is our
capacity for virtue and happiness, and the wider is our
sphere of existence.  To postpone the present for the




ï~~OF SELF-LOVE.

105

fiture, seems, therefore, to be the dictate of wisdom, if we
calmly consider the condition of our being.
But, it is of the nature of passion, to seize upon the
present gratification, utterly irrespective of consequences,
and utterly regardless of other or more excellent gratifications, which may be obtained by self-denial. He whose
passions are inflamed, looks at nothing beyond the present
gratification. Hence, he is liable to seize upon a present
enjoyment, to the exclusion of a much more valuable one
in future, and even in such a manner as to entail upon
himself poignant and remediless misery. And, hence, in
order to be enabled to enjoy all the happiness of which his
present state is capable, the sensitive part of man needs to
be combined with another, which, upon a comparison of
the present with the future, shall impel him towards that
mode either of gratification or of self-denial, which shall
most promote his happiness upon the whole.
Such is self-love. We give this name to that part of
our constitution, by which we are incited to do or to for
bear, to gratify or to deny our desires, simply on the ground
of obtaining the greatest amount of happiness for ourselves,
taking into view a limited future, or else our entire future
existence. When we act from simple respect to present
gratification, we act from passion. When we act from a
respect to our whole individual happiness, without regard
to the present, only as it is a part of the whole, and with
out any regard to the happiness of others, only as it will
contribute to our own, we are then said to act from selflove.
The difference between- these two modes of impulsion
may be easily illustrated.
Suppose a man destitute of self-love, and actuated o tly
by passion. He would seize without reflection, and enjoy
without limit, every object of gratification which the present
moment might offer, without regard to its value in comparison with others, which might be secured by self-denial, and
without any regard o the consequences which might follow
present pleasure, be they ever so disastrous.
On the cont 'ary, we may imagine a being destitute of




ï~~O SELF-LOVE.

passions, and impelled only by self-love; that is, by a desire
for his own happiness, on the whole. In this case, so far
as I see, he would never act at all. Having no desires to
gratify, there could be no gratification; and, hence, there
could be no happiness. Happiness is the result of the
exercise of our sensitiveness upon its corresponding objects.
But we have no sensitiveness which corresponds to any
object in ourselves; nor do ourselves present any object to
correspond to such sensitiveness. Hence, the condition of a
being, destitute of passions, and actuated only by self-love,
would be an indefinite and most painful longing after happiness, without the consciousness of any relation to external
objects which could gratify it  Nor is this an entirely
imaginary condition. In cases of deep melancholy, and
of fixed hypochondria, tending to derangement, I think
every one must have observed in others, and he is happy
if he have not experienced in himself, the tendencies to
precisely such a state. The very power of affection, or
sensitiveness, seems paralyzed. This state of mind has, I
think, been ascribed to Hamlet by Shakspeare, in the following passage:
" I have, of late (but wherefore I know not), lost all
my mirth, foregone all custom of exercises; and, indeed, it
goes so heavily with my dispositions, that this goodly frame,
the earth, seems to me a sterile promontory; this most
excellent canopy, the air-look you-this brave overhanging firmament; this majestical roof, fretted with golden
fire; why, it appears no other tiling to me, than a foul and
pestilent congregation of vapors. Man delights me not,
nor woman neither, though by your smiling you seem to
say so."-Hamlet, Act ii, Sc. 2.
It would seem, therefore, that self-love is not, in itsel.
a facd.ty, or part of our constitution, in itself, productive
of happiness; but rather an impulse, which, out of several
forms of gratification which may be presented, inclines us
to select that which will be the most for our happiness,
considered as a whole. This seems the more evident, from
the obvious fact, that a man, actuated by the most zealous
celf-love, derives no more happiness from a given gratifica



ï~~OF SELF-LOVE.

101

don, than any other man.  His pleasure, in any one act of
enjoyment, is not in the ratio of his self-love, but of his
sensitiveness.
From these remarks, we can easily determine the rank
W which self-love is entitled.
1. Its rank is superior to that of passion. As our happiness, as a whole, is of more consequence than the happiaess of any separate moment, so the faculty which impels
as towards our happiness upon the whole, was manifestly
intended to control that which impels toward our happiness
for a moment. If happiness be desirable, the greatest
amount of it is most desirable; and, as we are provided
with a constitution, by which we are forewarned of the
difference, and impelled to a correct choice, it is the design
of our Creator that we should obey it.
2. Its rank is inferior to that of conscience. We are
made not only sensitive beings, that is, beings capable of
happiness, but also moral beings, that is, beings capable of
virtue. The latter is manifestly the most important object
of our being, even in so far as our own happiness is concerned; for, by the practice of virtue, without respect to
our own temporal happiness, we secure our moral happiness, the most valuable of any of which even at the present
we are capable; while, by acting for own happiness, when
these seem to come into competition, we lose that which is
most valuable, and can be by no means certain -of obtaining the other. That is to say, when our own happiness
and our duty seem to come into collision, we are bound to
discard the coisideration of our own happiness, and to do
what we believe to be right.
This may be illustrated by an example.
Suppose that two courses of action are presented to our
choice. The one, so far as we can see, will promote our
individual happiness; the other will fulfil a moral obligation.
Now, in this case we may act in either of these ways:
1. We may seek our own happiness, and violate our
obligations. In this case, we certainly lose the pleasure of
virtue, and suffer the pain of remorse, while we must be
uncertain whether we shall obtain the object of our desires.




ï~~108

OF SELF-LOVE.

2.  We may perform the act which conscience indicates,
but from our self-love as a motive.  Here, we shall gain
whatever reward, by the constitution under which we are
placed, belongs to the action; but we lose the pleasure of
virtue.
3. We may perform the act indicated by conscience,
and from the simple impulse of duty. In this case, we
obtain every reward which could be obtained in the preceding case, and, in addition, are blessed with the approbation of conscience. Thus, suppose I deliberate whether
I shall spend a sum of money in self-gratification, or else
in an act of benevolence, which is plainly my duty. If
I pursue the former course, it is very uncertain whether
actually secure the gratification which I seek, while
I lose the pleasure of rectitude, and am saddened by
the pains of remorse.  The pleasure of gratification is
soon over, but the pain of guilt is enduring. Or, again,
I may perform the act of benevolence from love of applause, or some modification of self-love. I here obtain
with more certainty the reputation which I seek, but lose
the reward of conscious virtue. Or, thirdly, if I do the
act without any regard to my own happiness, and simply
from love to God and man, I obtain all the rewards which
attach to the action by the constitution under which I am
placed, and also enjoy the higher rewards of conscious
rectitude.
This subordination of motives seems clearly to be re
ferred to by our Savior: "There is no man, t it hath
left house, or brethren, or sisters, or father, or mother, or
wife, or children, or lands, for my sake and the gospel's,
but he shall receive an hundred fold now, in this time, and,
in the world to come, life everlasting."  That is to say, a
man does not obtain the reward of virtue, even in selfdenial, unless he disregard the consideration of himself, and
act from simple love to God. To the same purport is the
often repeated observation of our Savior." Whosoever will
save his life shall lose it; and whosoever will lose his life,
for my sake, shall find it." There are many passages of
Scripture which seem to assert, that the very turning-point




ï~~OF SELF-LOVE.

I09

of moral character, so far as our relations to God are concerned, consists in yielding up the consideration of our own
happiness, as a controlling motive, and subjecting it, without reserve, to the higher motive, the simple will of God.
If these remarks be true, we see,
1. That, when conscience speaks, the voice of self-lovo
must be silent. That is to say, we have no right to seek
our own happiness in any manner at variance with moral
obligation. Nevertheless, from several courses of action,
either of which is.innocent, we are at liberty to choose that
which will most conduce to our own happiness. In such
a case, the consideration of our happiness is justly ultimate.
2. The preceding chapter has shown us that man was
designed to be made happy by the gratification of his desires. The present chapter teaches us, that, when the
gratification of desire is at variance with virtue, a greater
happiness is to be obtained by self-denial. Or in other
words, our greatest happiness is to be obtained, not by the
various modes of self-gratification, but by simply seeking
the good of others, and in doing the will of God, from the
heart.
3. And, hence, we may arrive at the general principle,
that every impulse or desire is supreme within its own
assigned limits; but that, when a lower comes into competition with a higher impulsion, the inferior accomplishes its
own object most perfectly, by being wholly subject to the
superior. Thus, desire, or the love of present gratification,
may, within its own limits, be indulged. But, when this
present gratification comes into competition with self-love,
even passion accomplishes its own object best; that is, a
man actually attains to more enjoyment, by submitting
present desire implicitly to self-love. And so self-love is
ultimate within its proper limits; but when it comes into
competition with conscience, it actually accomplishes its
own object best, by being entirely subject to that which
the Creator has constituted its superior.
4. The difference between self-love, as an innocent part
of our constitution, and selfishness, a vicious disposition.
may be easily seen. Self-love properly directs our choice
10




ï~~S10                oF SELF-LOVE.
of objects, where both are equally inns cent. Selfishness t
a similar disposition to promote our ovn happiness, upon,
the whole: but it disposes us to seek it in objects over
which we have no just control; that is, which are not innocent, and which we could not enjoy, v hout violating ou
duties, either to God or to our neighbor




ï~~111

CHAPTER SIXTH.
i.M4PERFECTION OF CONSCIENCE, NECESSITY OF SOME ADDITION
AL MORAL LIGHT.
IT has been already remarked, that a distinction may be
very clearly observed between right and wrong, and guilt
and innocence. Right and wrong depend upon the relations under which we are created, and the obligations resulting from them, and are in their nature immutable. Guilt
and innocence have respect to the individual, and are
modified, moreover, by the amount of his knowledge of
his duty, and are not decided solely by the fact that the
action was or was not performed.
It is, moreover, to be observed, that the results of these
two attributes of actions may be seen to differ. Thus, every
right action is followed, in some way, with pleasure or
benefit to the individual; and every wrong one, by pain or
discomfort, irrespective of the guilt or innocence of the
author of the act. Thus, in the present constitution of
things, it is evident that a nation which had no knowledge
of the wickedness of murder, revenge, uncleanness, or theft,
would, if it violated the moral law in these respects, suffer
the consequences which are attached to these actions by our
Creator. And, on the contrary, a nation which practised
forgiveness, mercy, honesty, and purity, without knowing
them to be right, would enjoy the benefits which are connected with such actions.
Now, whatever be the object oi this constitution, by
which happiness or misery are consequent upon acutions as
right or wrong, whether it be as a monition, or to inform
usof the will of God concerning us, one thing seems evident,---it is not to punish actions as innocent or guilty:
for the happiness or misery of which we speak, affect men




ï~~I "2

IMPERFECTION OF CONSCIENCE.

sunmply in consequence of the action, and without any regard to the innocence or guilt of the actor.
Let us now add another element. Suppose a man to
know the obligations which bind him to his Creator; and,
also, what is his Creator's will respecting a certain action;
and that he then deliberately violates this obligation.
Every man feels that this violation of obhligation deserves
punishment on its own account; and, also, punishment
ii. proportion to the greatness of the obligation violated.
Hence, the consequences of any action are to be considered
n a two-fold light; first, the consequences depending upon,he present constitution of things; and, secondly, those
which follow the action, as innocent or guilty; that is, as
violating or not violating our obligations to our Creator.
These two things are plainly to be considered distinct
from each other. Of the one, we can form some estimate;
of the other, none whatever. Thus, whatever be the design
of the constitution, by which pain should be consequent
upon wrong actions, irrespective of guilt; whether it be to
admonish us of dangers, or to intimate to us the will of our
Creator; we can have some conception how great it would
probably be. But, if we consider the action as guilty; that
is, as violating the known will of our Creator; no one can
conceive how great the punishment of such an act ought to
be. for no one can conceive how vast is the obligation
which binds a creature to his God: nor, on the other hand,
can any one conceive how vast would be the reward, if this
obligation were perfectly fulfilled.
As, then, every moral act is attended with pleasure or
pain, and as every one also exposes us to the punishments
or rewards of guilt or innocence, both of which manifestly,ranscend our power of conception; and, if such be our
constitution, that every moment is rendering our moral
condition either better or worse; specially, if this world be
a state of probation, tending to a state where change is
impossible; it is manifestly of the greatest possible importance that we should both know our duty, and be furnished
with-all suitable impulsions to perform it. The constitulion iunder which man is formed, min this respect, has been
v plained at the close of the chapter on virtue. And were




ï~~IMPERFECTION OF CONSCIENCE.

113

the intellect and conscience of man to be in a perfect state,
and were he in entire harmony with the universe around
him, there can be no doubt that his happiness, in the
present state, would be perfectly secured.
It would not, however, be certain that, with intellectual
and moral powers suited to his station, man would be in ne
need of farther communication from his Maker. Although
his feeling of obligation, and his desire to discharge it, might
be perfect, yet he might not be fully aware of the manner
in which this obligation should be discharged. Thus, though
our first parents were endowed with a perfect moral constitution, yet it was necessary that God should make to them
a special revelation respecting some portion of his will.
Such might also be the case in any other instance of a perfect moral constitution, in a being of limited capacity.
How much more evidently is additional light necessary,
when it is remembered that the moral constitution of man
seems manifestly to be imperfect? This may be observed
min several respects:
1. There are many obligations under which man is created, both to his fellow-creatures and to God, which his
unassisted conscience does not discover. Such are the obligations to universal forgiveness, to repentance, and many
others.
2. When the obligations are acknowledged, man frequently errs in respect to the mode in which they are to be
discharged. Thus, a man may acknowledge his obligations
to God, but may suppose that God will be pleased with a
human sacrifice. A man may acknowledge his obligation to
love his children, but may believe that this obligation may
best be discharged by putting them to death. Now, it is
manifest, that, in both these cases, a man must suffer all the
present evils resulting from such a course, just as much as
though he knowingly violated these obligations.
3. When men both know the obligations under which
they are created, and the mode in which they are.o be
discharged, they wilfully disobey the monitions of conscience.
We act according to the impulsions of blind, headlong
passion, regardless of our own best good, and of the welfare,f others, in despite of what we know to be the will of Q"I
10 *




ï~~114

IMPERFECTION OF CONSCIENCE.

Maker. It is the melancholy fact, that men do deliberately
violate the commands of God, for the sake of the most
transient and trifling gratification. Hence the hackneyed
confession:
Video, proboque meliora;
Deteriora sequor.
And hence it is evident that not only are men exposing
themselves to the pains attendant upon wrong actions dur
ing the present life; but they are also exposing themselves
to the punishments, how great and awful soever these may
be, which are incurred by violating our obligations to ow
Creator and our Judge. The state of human nature in these
respects I suppose. to be vividly set forth by St. Paul in the
Epistle to the Romans, ch. vii, v. 7-25.
If such be our state, it is manifest that under such a
moral constitution as we have above described, our condition
must be sufficiently hopeless. Unless something be done,
it would seem that we must all fail of a large portion of the
happiness, to which we might otherwise in the present life
attain; and, still more, must be exposed to a condemnation
greater than we are capable of conceiving.
Under such circumstances, it surely is not improbable,
that a benevolent Deity should make use of some additional
means, to inform us of our duty, and thus warn us of the
evils which we were bringing upon ourselves. Still less is
it improbable, that a God, delighting in right, should take
some means to deliver us from the guilty habits which we
have formed, and restore us to that love and practice of
virtue, which can alone render us pleasing to him. That
God was under any obligation to do this, is not asserted;
but that a being of infinite compassion and benevolence
should do it, though not under aiy obligation, is surely not
improbable.
Should a revelation be made to remedy the defects of
man's moral state, we can form some conceptions of what
mnight be expected in order to accomplish such a result.
1. Our defective knowledge of moral obligation might
be remedied, by a clear view of the attributes of God, and
-f the various relations which we sustai'to him.
2. Our ignorant 1 of the mode in which our obligations




ï~~IMPERFECTION OF CONSCIENCE.

115

should be discharged, might be dispelled, either by a more
expanded view of the consequences of actions, or by direct
precept.
3. In order t, overcome our temper of disobedience, I
know not what means might be employed. A reasonable
one would seem to be, a manifestation of the character of
the Deity to us, in some new relation, creating so'me new
obligations, and thus opening a new source of moral motives
within the soul of man.
The first and second of these objects are accomplished,
as I suppose, by the discoveries of natural religion, and by
the promulgation of the moral law, under the Old Testament
dispensation. The third is accomplished, by the revelation
of the facts of the New Testament, and specially, by the
revelation of God, as the author of a new and a remedial
dispensation.
Hence, we see that the sources of moral light, irrespective of conscience, are,
1. The precepts of natural religion.
2. The precepts and motives of the sacred Scriptures.
From what has been remarked, in the present chapter, a
few inferences naturally arise, which I will insert in this
place.
It is mentioned above, that the evil consequences of
doing wrong, are manifestly of two kinds. First, those
connected with an action as right or wrong, and arising
from the present constitution of things; and, secondly, those
resulting from the action as innocent or guilty; that is, as
wilfully violating, or not, the obligations due to our Maker.
Now, from this plain distinction, we see,
1. That no sin can be of trifling consequence. The
least as well as the greatest, being a violation of an obligation more sacred and awful than we can conceive, must
expose us to punishment more dreadful than we can comprehend. If it be said, the thing in itself is a trifle, the
answer is obvious: How wicked must it be, for the sake of
a trifle, to violate so sacred and solemn an obligation as that
which binds us to our Creator!
2. Hence we see how unfounded is the assertion som&times made., that God could not, for the momentary actions




ï~~116

IMPERFECTION OF CONSCIENC-E

of this short life, justly inflict upon us any severe or long
enduring punishment. If an act, whether long or short, be
a violation of our obligations to God; if ill-desert be according to the greatness of the obligation violated; and if
no one can pretend to comprehend the vastness of the obligations which bind the creature to the Creator; then, no
one can, a priori, pretend to decide what is the punishment
justly due to every act of wilful wickedness. It is evident
that no one can decide this question but he who fully knows
the relation between the parties; that is, the Creator
himself.
3. Since every impure, revengeful, deceitful or envious
thought is a violation of our obligations to our Maker, an'd,
much more, the words and actions to which these thoughts
give rise; and since even the imperfect conscience of every
individual accuses him of countless instances, if not of habits,
of such violation: if the preceding observations be just, it
is manifest that our present moral condition involves the
elements of much that is alarming. It surely must be the
duty of every reasonable man, to inquire, with the deepest
solicitude, whether any way of escape from punishment, and
of moral renovation, have been revealed by the Being against
whbm we have sinned; and, if any such revelation have
been made, it must be our most solemn duty to conform our
lives to such principles as shall enable us to avail ourselves
of its provisions.
4. The importantce of this duty will be still more clearly
evident, if we consider, that the present is a state of probation, in which alone moral change is possible; and which
must speedily terminate in a state, by necessity, unchangeable; for which, also, the present state therefore offers us
the only opportunity- of preparation. To neglect either to
possess ourselves of all the knowledge in our power on this
subject, or to neglect to obey any reasonable precepts which
afford the least probability of improving our condition for the
future, seems a degree of folly for which it is really impossible to find an adequate epithet.
5. Nor does it render this folly the less reprehensible,
for a man gravely to assert, that we do not know any thing
about the future world, and, therefore, it is needless to in




ï~~IMPERFECTION OF CONSCIENCE.         I
quire respecting it.  This is to assert, without inquiry
what could only be reasonably asserted after the most ful
and persevering inquiry. No man can reasonably asser
that we know nothing respecting the other world, until he
has examined every system of religion within his knowledge, and, by the fair and legitimate use of his understanding, shown conclusively that none of them throw any light
upon the subject. By what right, therefore, can a man
utter such an assertion, who, at the outset, declares that
he will examine none of them? What should we think
of the man who declared that he would not study astronomy, for that no one knew more about the heavens than he
did himself? Yet many men neglect to inform themselves
on the subject of religion for no better reason. It is very
remarkable, that men do not perceive the absurdity of an
assert on respecting religion, which they would immediately
perce.ve, if uttered respecting any thing else.




ï~~CHAPTER SEVENTH.
OF NATURAL RELIGION.
IN t.e, preceding chapter, I have endeavored to illustrate
the nature of our moral constitution, and to show that, in
our present state, conscience, unassisted, manifestly fails to
produce the results which seem to have been intended;
and which are necessary to our attaining the happiness
which is put within our power; and to our avoiding the
misery to which we are exposed. That some additional
light will be granted to us, and that some additional moral
power will be imparted, seems clearly not improbable.
This I suppose to have been done by the truths of natural
and revealed religion. In the present chapter, I shall treat
of natural religion under the following heads:
1. The manner in which we may learn our duty, by the
light of nature.
2. The extent to which our knowledge of duty can be
carried by this mode of teaching.
3. The defects of the system of natural religion.
SECTION 1.
OP THE MANNER IN WHICH WE MAY LEARN OUR DUTY BY THE
LIGHT OF NATURE.
In treating upon this subject, it is taken for granted,
1. That there is an intelligent and universal First Cause,
who made us as we are, and made all things around us
capable of affecting us, both as individuals and as societies,
as they do.




ï~~HOW WE MAY LEARN OUR DUTY, ETC.

119

2. That He had a design in so making us, and in constituting the relations around us as they are constituted;
and that a part of that design was to intimate to us his will
concerning us.
3. That we are capable of observing these relations, and
of knowing how various actions affect us and affect others.
4. And that we are capable of learning the design with
which these various relations were constituted; and, specially, that part of the design which was to intimate to us
the will of our Creator.
The application of these self-evident principles to the
subject of duty is easy. We know that we are so made as
to derive happiness from some courses of conduct, and to
suffer unhappiness from others. Now, no one can doubt
that the intention of our Creator in these cases was that we
should pursue the one course, and avoid the other. Or,
again, we are so made, that we are rendered unhappy, on
the whole, by pursuing a course of conduct in some partic
ular manner, or beyond a certain degree. This is an intimation of our Creator, respecting the manner and the
degree in which he designs us to pursue that course of
conduct.
Again, as has been said before, society is necessary, no:
m rely to the happiness, but to the actual existence, of the
rage of man. Hence, it is necessary, in estimating the
tendency of actions upon our own happiness, to extend our
view be) ud the direct effect of an action upon ourselves.
Thus, if we cannot perceive that any evil would result to
ouselves from a particular course of action, yet, if it would
tend to injure society, specially if it would tend to destroy
society altogether, we may hence arrive at a clear indication of the will of our Creator concerning it. As the destruction of society would be the destruction of the individual, it is as evident that God does not intend us to do what
would injure society, as that He does not intend us to do
what would injure our own bodies, or diminish our individ
nal happiness. And the principle of limitation suggested
above, applies in the same manner here: that is, if a course
of conduct, pursued in a certain manner, or to a certain
extent, be beneficial to society; and if pursued in anothe




ï~~120

HOW WE MAY LEARN OUR

manner, or beyond a certain extent, is injurious to it; the
indication is, in this respect, clear, as to the will of oui
Maker respecting us.
To apply this to particular cases. Suppose a man were in
doubt, whether or not drunkenness were agreeable to the will
of his Maker. Let us suppose that intemperate drinking produces present pleasure, but that it also produces subsequent
pain; and that, by continuance in the habit, the pleasure
becomes less, and the pain greater; and that the pain
affects various powers of the mind, and different organs of
the body. Let a man look around him, and survey the
crime, the vice, the disease, and the poverty, which God
has set over against the momentary gratification of the
palate, and the subsequent excitement which it produces.
Now, whoever will look at these results, and will consider
that God had a design in creating things to affect us as they
do, must be as fully convinced that, by these results, He intended to forbid intemperance, as though He had said so
by a voice from heaven. The same principle may be
applied to gluttony, libertinism, or any other vice.
Another example may be taken from the case of re
venge. Revenge is that disposition which prompts us to
inflict pain upon another, for the sake of alleviating the
feeling of personal degradation consequent upon a'in injury.
Now, suppose a man, inflamed and excited by this feeling
of injury, should inflict, upon the other party, pain, until his
excited feeling was gratified: the injured party would then
manifestly become the injurer; and, thus, the original
injurer would be, by the same rule, entitled to retaliate.
Thus, revenge and retaliation would go on increasing until
the death of one of the parties. The duty of vengeance
would then devolve upon the surviving friends and relatives
of the deceased, and the circle would widen until it involved whole tribes or nations. Thus, the indulgence of
this one evil passion would, in a few generations, render
the thronged city an unpeopled solitude. Nor is this a
mere imaginary case. The Indians of North America are
known to have considered the indulgence of revenge not
merely as innocent, but also as glorious, and in some sense
obligatory. The result was, that, at the time of the discov.




ï~~DUTY BY THE LIGHT OF NATURE.

121

cry of this continent, they were universally engaged in
ivars; and, according to the testimony of their oldest and
wisest chiefs, their numbers were rapidly diminishing. And,
hence, he who observes the effects of revenge upon society,
must be convinced, that he who formed the constitution
under which we live, must have intended, by these effects,
to have forbidden it, as clearly as though he h.d made it
known by language. He has given us an understanding,
by the simplest exercise of which, we arrive at this con.
clusion.
It is still further to be observed, that, whenever a course
of ccnduct produces individiual, it also produces social
misery; and whenever a course of conduct violates the
social laws of our being, it of necessity produces individual
misery. And, hence, we see that both of these indications
are combined, to teach us the same lesson; that is, to intimate to us what is, and what is not, the will of God
respecting our conduct.
Hence, we see that two views may be taken of an
action, when it is contemplated in the light of nature: first,
as affecting ourselves; and, secondly, as affecting both
ourselves and society, but specially the latter. It is in this
latter view that we introduce the doctrine of general consequences. We ask, in order to determine what is our
duty, What would be the result, if this or that action were
universally practised among men? Or, how would it affect
the happiness of individuds, and of the whole? By the
answer to these questions, we ascertain what is the will of
God in respect to that action, or that course of action. When
once the will of God is ascertained, conscience, as we have
shown, teaches us that we are under the highest obligation
to obey it. Thus, from the consideration of the greatest
amount of happiness, we arrive at the knowledge of our
duty, not directly, but indirectly. The feeling of moral
obligation does not arise firom the simple fact that, such a
course of conduct will, or will not, produce the greatest
amount of happiness; but, from the fact that this tendency
shows us what is the will of our Creator; and we are, by
the principles of our nature, under the highest possible obli
gation to obey that will.
1I




ï~~2z

HOW WE MAY LEARN OUR

It must be evident that a care ful observation of twhe
results and tendencies of actions, and of different courses
of conduct, will teach us, in very many respects, the laws
of our moral nature; that is, what, in these respects, is the
will of our Creator. Now, these laws, thus arrived at,
and reduced to order and arrangement, form the system of
natural religion. So far as it goes, every one must confess
such a system to be valuabe; and it, moreover, rests upon
as sure and certain a basis as any system of laws whatever.
To all this, however, I know but of one objection that
can be urged. It is, that pain is not, of necessity, punitive,
or prohibitory; and that it may be merely monitory or
advisory. Thus, if I put my hand incautiously too near
the fire, I am admonished by the pain which I feel to withdraw it. Now, this pain is, manifestly, only monitory, and
intended merely to warn me of danger. It is not, of necessity, prohibitory; for, I may hold my hand so near to the
fire as to produce great pain, for some necessary purpose,---
as, for instance, for the sake of curing disease,-and yet
not violate my obligations to. my Creator, nor in any
measure incur his displeasure.
Now, the fact thus stated may be fully admitted, without
min the least affecting the argument. It is evident, that
many of the pains to which we are at present exposed, are,:n their nature, intended to warn us of approaching harm,
as min the instance just mentioned; or, they may be intima
dons of mischief actually commenced, of which we could
-'^t be otherwise aware,-as in the case of internal diseases
And, it is manifest, that, such being their nature and design
they must be intimately connected with, and either accom
pany or precede, that injury of which they are intended tu
forewarn or to inform us; and it is natural to expect that
they would cease or tend to cessation, as soon as they have
accomplished the object for which they were intended
And such, I think, will in general be found to be the fact,
with respect to those pains which are in their nature mon
itory.
But I think it will be evident, to every one who will
observe, that many of the pains endured u der the present
constitution, are not of this kind.




ï~~DUTY BY THE LIGHT OF NATURE.

123

Jhus, for example:
L. There are many pains which are inflicted in conseqix nce of actions of which we were forewarned by conscience. It would seem that the design of these pains
could not be monitory, inasmuch as monition is performed
by another faculty.
2. There are many pains which, from the nature of our
constitution, are not inflicted until after the act has been
performed, and the evil accomplished. This is the case
with drunkenness, and many other vices. Here, the pain
cannot be intended as a premonition; for it is not inflicted
in its severity until after the injury has actually been done.
3. Not only does the pain, in many cases, occur afterwards; it frequently does not occur until a long time after
the offence. Months, and even years, may elapse, before
the punishment overtakes the criminal. This is very frequently the case with youthful crimes, which, ordinarily,
exhibit their result not until manhood, or even old age.
Now, pain must here be intended to signify something
else besides warning.
4. We find that the punishment, in many cases, bears
no sort of proportion either to the benefit obtained by the
individual, or even to the injury, in the particular instance,
inflicted upon society. This is manifest in very many instances of lying, forgery, small theft, and the like, in which,
by a single act of wrong, a person ruins a reputation which
it had taken a whole life to establish. Now, in such a case
as this, it is evident that the purpose of warning could not
be intended; for this end could be accomplished, at vastly
less expe. ise of happiness, in some other way.
5. We find that the tendency of many instances of punishment, is not to leave the offender in the same state as
before, but rather in a worse state. His propensities to do
wrong are rendered stronger, and his inducement to do well
weaker; and thus he is exposing himself to greater and
greater punishments. The tendency, therefore, is not to
recovery, but to more fatal moral disease.
6. Although a man, by reformation, may freq iently
regain the standing which he has lost, yet there are mnamtest indications, in the present constitution, that, after a




ï~~1 24    HOW WE MAY LEARN OUR DUTY, ETC.

gives amount of to i1 has been granted, a decisive punishment is inflicted waich extinguishes for ever all hope, if
not all possibility, of recovery. A man may waste part
of his youth in idleness, and may by diligence regain the
time which h. had lost. But he soon arrives at a point,
beyond which such opportunity is impossible. Thus also
in morals, a man may sometimes do wrong, and return to
virtue, and escape present punishment; but every instance
of crime renders the probability of escape less; and he at
last arrives at a point, beyond which nothing can avert the
infliction of the merited and decisive calamity.
7. We find that some actions produce misery which
extends to other beings besides those who are actually concerned in committing them.
This takes place sometimes by example, and at other
times the pain is inflicted upon those who could not be
infected by the example. Illustrations of this are seen in
cases of disease propagated by hereditary descent, in misery
arising from the misconduct of rulers, in the suffering of men
from flagitious crimes of relatives and acquaintances. And
in consequence of the constitution under which we exist,
these miseries are frequently transmitted down beyond any
assignable limit. Thus, the condition of the Jews is by
themselves and others frequently believed to be the result
of some crime committed by their forefathers, either at or
before the time of Christ. The sad effects of the persecution of Protestantism in Spain and Portugal, at the time of
the Reformation, can be clearly traced in all the subsequunt
history of these countries.
Now, all these considerations seem clearly to indicate
that there are pains inflicted upon man for other purposes
except warning; and that they are of the nature of punishment; that is, of pain inflicted after crime has been voluntarily committed, in spite of sufficient warning, and inflicted
by way of desert, as what the offence really merits, and
what it behooeves a righteous governor to award transgression.
Nor will it avail, to object that these inflictions are intended to be warnings to others. This is granted; but this:y no means prevents their being also punishments in the




ï~~HOW FAR WE MAY LEARN OUR DUTY, ETC.      125
sense in which we have considered them. Such is the case
in all punishments inflicted by society. They are intended
to oe a warning to others; but this hinders not their being
also in the strictest sense punishments; that is, inflictions
of pain as the just desert of crime, and as clear indications
of the will of society respecting the action of which they
are the result.
From what has been said, I think we may safely conclude:
1. That God has given to man a moral and an intellectual
constitution, by which he may be admonished of his duty.
2. That He allows man to act freely, and to do either
right or wrong, as he chooses.
3. That He, in the present life, has connected rewards
with the doing of right, and punishments with the doing of
wrong; and that these rewards and punishments affect both
the individuail and society.
4. And hence that, from an attentive observation of the
results of actions upon individuals, and upon society, we
may ascertain what is the will of God concerning us.
5. And for all the opportunities of thus ascertaining his
will by his dealings with men-that is, by the light of
nature-God holds all his creatures responsible.
SECTION II.
HOW FAR WE MAY DISCOVER OUR DUTY BY THE LIGHT OF
NATURE.
IT has been shown that we may, by observing the results,
of our actions upon individuals, and upon society, ascertain
wnat is the will of our Creator concerning us. In this
manner we may discover much moral truth, which would
be unknown, were we left to the guidance of conscience
unassisted; and we may derive many motives to virtue
which would otherwise be inoperative.
I. By the light of nature we discover rruch moral
11ii *




ï~~126

H )W FAR WE MAY LEARN OUR

truth waizh could never be discovered by conscience
unassisted
1. Conscience indicates to us our obligations to others
v hen our relations to them are discovered; and impels us
toward that course of conduct which the understanding
points out as corresponding with these obligations. But
there are many obligations which conscience seems not to
point out to men, and many ways of fulfilling these obligations
wlicui the understanding does not clearly indicate. In
these respects, we may be greatly assisted by natural
religion.
Thus, I doabt whether the unassisted conscience would
teach the wrong of polygamy or of divorce. The Jews,
even at the time of our Savior, had no conception that a
marriage contract was obligatory for life. But any one
who will observe the effects of polygamy upon families and
societies, can have no doubt that the precept of the gospel
on this subject is the moral law of the system under which
we are, So, I do not know that unassisted conscience
would remonstrate against what might be called reasonable
revenge, or the operation of the Lex Talionis. But he
who will observe the consequences of revenge, and those of
forgiveness of injuries, will have no difficulty in deciding
which course of conduct has been indicated as his duty by
his Maker.
2. The extent of obligations, previously known to exist,
is made known more clearly by the light of nature. Conscience might teach us the obligations to love our friends,
or our countrymen, but it might not go farther. The
results of different courses of conduct would clearly show
that our Creator intended us to love all men, of every
nation, and even our enemies.
3. It is by observing the results of our actions that we
learn the limitations which our Creator has affixed to ou
desires, as we have shown in the chapter on happiness.
The simple fact that gratification of our desires, beyond a
certain limit, will produce more misery than happiness,
addresses itself to our self-love, and forms a reason why that
limit should not be transgressed. The fact that this limit
was fixed by our Creator, and that he has thus intimated to




ï~~DUTY BY THE LIGHT OF NATURE.

127

us his will, addresses itself to our conscience, and places us
under obligation to act as he has commanded, on pain of
his displeasure.
4. In many cases where the obligation is ackiowledged.
we might not be able, without the light of natural ieligion,
to decide in what manner it could best be discharged
Thus, a man who felt conscious of his obligations' as a
parent, and wished to discharge them, would derive much
valuable information by observing what mode of exhibiting
paternal love had produced the happiest results. He would
hence be able the better to decide what was required of
him.
In this manner it cannot be doubted that much valuable
knowledge of moral truth might be acquired, beyond what
is attainable by unassisted conscience. But this is not all.
II. Natural religion presents additional motives to the
practice of virtue.
1. It does this, in the first place, by more clearly setting
before us the rewards of virtue, and the punishments of
vice. Conscience forewarns us against crime, and inflicts
its own peculiar punishment upon guilt; but, natural religion informs us of the additional consequences, independent
of ourselves, which attach to moral action, according to the
constitution under which we are created. Thus, conscience
might forewarn a man against dishonesty, and might inflict
upon him the pains of remorse, if he had stolen; but her
monition would surely derive additional power from an
observation of the effect which must be produced upon individuals and societies by the practice of this immorality;
and, also, by the contrary effects which must arise from the
opposite virtue.
2. Still further. Natural religion presents us with more
distinct and affecting views of the character of God than
could be obtained without it. One of the first aspirations
of a human soul is after an Intelligent First Cause; and
the most universal dictate of conscience is, that this First
Cause ought to be obeyed. Hence, every nation, how
rude soever t be, has its gods, ana its religious services
But such a notion of the Deity is cold and inoperative,
when compared with that which may be derived from an




ï~~128    HOW FAR WE MAY LEARN OUR DUTY, ETC.
intelligent observati n of the laws of nature, physical and
moral, which we see pervading the universe around us. In
every moral law which has been written on the page of
this world's history, we discover a new lineament of the
character of the Deity. Every moral attribute of God
which we discover, imposes upon us a new obligation, and
presents an additional motive why we should love and
serve Him. Hence we see that the knowledge of God
derived from the study of nature, is adapted to add greatly
to the impulsive power of conscience.
We see, then, how large a field of moral knowledge is
spread open before us, if we only, in a suitable manner,
apply our understandings to the works of God around us.
He has arranged all things, for tie purpose of teaching us
these lessons, and He has created our intellectual and
moral nature expressly for the purpose of learning them.
If, then, we do not use the powers which He has given us,
for the purpose for which He has given them, He holds us
responsible for the result. Thus said the prophet: "Because they regard not the works of the Lord, neither consider the operation of His hands, therefore, He shall de..
stroy them, and not build them up." Thus, the Scriptures,
elsewhere, declare all men to be responsible for the correct
use of all the knowledge of duty which God had set before
them. St. Paul, Rom. i, 19, 20, asserts, "That which
may be known of God, is manifest in (or to) them, for
God hath showed it to them: so that (or therefore) they
are without excuse."  Thus, he also declares, "They that
sin without law, (that is, without a written revelation,) shall
perish without law."  And thus we come to the general
conclusion, that natural religion presents to all men a distinct and important means of knowing the character and
will of God, and the obligations and duties of man; and
that, for this knowledge, all men are justly held responsible.




ï~~DEFECTS OF THE SYSTEM ETC

129

SECTION III,
DEFECTS OF THE SYSTEM OF NATURAL RELIGION.
1. Without any argument on the subject, the insufficiZncy
of natural religion, as a means of human reformation, might
be readily made manifest by facts.
1. The facts on which natural religion rests, and the in
telectual power to derive the moral laws from the facts,
have been in the possession of man from the beginning.
Yet, the whole history of man has exhibited a constant
tendency to moral deterioration. This is proved by the
fact, that every people, not enlightened by revelation, consider the earliest period of their history as the period of
their greatest moral purity. Then, the gods and men held
frequent intercourse; this intercourse, in consequence of the
sins of men, has sinc6 been discontinued. That was the
golden age; the subsequent ages have been of brass, or of
iron. The political history of men seems to teach the same
lesson. In the early ages of national existence, sparseness
of population, mutual fear, and universal poverty, have
obliged men to lay the foundations of society in principles of
justice, in order to secure national existence. But, as soon
as, under such a constitution, wealth was increased, population become dense, and progress in arts and arms have rendered a nation fearless, the anti-social tendencies of vice
have shown themselves too powerful for the moral forces by
which they have been opposed. The bonds of society have
been gradually dissolved, and a nation, rich in the spoils of
an hundred triumphs, becomes the prey of some warlike amn
more virtuous horde, which takes possession of the spoil,
merely to pursue the same career to a more speedy termination.
'2. The systems of religion of the heathen may be fairly
considered as the legitimate result of all the moral forces
which arc in operation upon man, irrespective of revelation.
They show us, not what man might have learned by the
groper use o is faculties in the study of duty, but what ht




ï~~130

)EFECTS OF TH E SYSTEM

has always actually learned. Now, these systems, so far
trom having any tendency to make man better, have a
manifest tendency to make him worse. Their gods were
of the most profligate and demoralizing character. Had
nat iral relig'3n succeeded in instilling into the minds of men
true ideas of virtue and duty, their imaginations, in forming
conceptions of deities, would have invested them with far
different attributes.
3. The ethical systems of philosophers, it is true, not unfrequently presented sublime and pure conceptions of Deity.
But, as instruments of moral reformation, they were clearly
inoperative. They were extremely imperfect in   every
thing which relates to our duties to man, and, specially, in
every thing which relates to our duty to God; they offered
no sufficient motives to obedience; they were established
on subtle reasonings, which could not be comprehended by
the common people; and they imposed no obligation upon
their disciples to disseminate them among others. Hence,
they were never extensively known, beyond the small circle
of meditative students; and, by these, they were considered
rather as matters of doubtful speculation, than of practical
benefit; adapted rather to the cultivation of intellectual
acuteness, than to the reformation of moral conduct. I
think that any one, on reading the ethical disquisitions of the
ancients, must be struck with the fact, that honest, simple,
and ardent love of truth seems to have furnished no motive
whatever to their investigations; and that its place was
supplied by mere curiosity, or love of the new, the refined,
and even the paradoxical.
And, hence, as might be expected, these ethical systems
made no converts from vice to virtue. From the era of
which of the systems of ancient ethics, can any reformation
be dated? Where are their effects recorded in the moral
history of man? Facts have abundantly proved them to
be utterly destitute of any power over the conscience, or
of any practical influence over the conduct.
4. Nor can this failure be attributed to any want of intellectual cultivation. During a large portion of the period
of which we have spoken, the human mind had, in many
respects, attained to a higl m. state of perfection as it has




ï~~OF NATURAL RELIGION.

I31

attained at any subsequent age.   Eloquence, poetr'y,
rhetoric, nay, some of the severer sciences, were studied
with a success which has never since been surpassed. This
is universally confessed. Yet what progress did the classic
ages make in morals? And hence, we think, it must be
admitted that the human mind, even under the most favorable circumstances, has never, when unassisted by revelation, deduced from the course of things around us any such
principles of duty, or motives to the performance of it, as
were sufficient to produce any decided effect upon the moral
character of man.
And hence were we unable to assign the cause of this
failure; yet the fact of the failure alone is sufficient to
prove the necessity of some other means for arriving at a
knowledge of duty, than is afforded by the light of nature.
II. But, secondly, the causes of this insufficiency may,
in many respects, be pointed out. Among them are obviously the following:
1. The mode of teaching natural religion is by experience. We can form no opinion respecting the results of
two opposite courses of action, until they be both before us.
Hence, we cannot certainly know what the law is, except
by breaking it. Hence, the habit of violation must, in
some sense, be formed, before we know what the law is
which we violate. Consequently, from the nature of the
case, natural religion must always be much behind the age,
and must always utter its precepts to men who are, in some
manner, fixed in the habit of violating them.
2. There are many moral laws in which the connection
between the transgression and the punishment cannot be
shown, except in the more advanced periods of society.
Such is the fact, in respect to those laws which can be
ascertained only by extended and minute observation; and,
of course, a state of society in which knowledge is widely
disseminated, and the experience of a large surface, and foi
a long period, may be necessary to establish the fact of the
connection between this particular violation and this particular result. In the mean time, mankind will be suffering
all the consequences of vice; and the courses of coii



ï~~3

n i'EE  5I O 'T1IF;:'f'::

dct which are the causes of misery, will be inteIw v ~,
themselves with the whole customs, and habits, and interests, of every class of society. Thus, it too often ha ppens, that the knowledge is with great difficulty acquired,
and, when acquired, unfortunately comes too late to effect
a remedy.
3. A still more radical deficiency, however, in natural
religion, is, that it is, firom its nature, incapable of teaching
facts. It can teach only laws and tendencies. From
observing what has been done, and how it has been done, it
can infer that, if the same thing were done again, it would
be done in the same manner, and would be attended, in all
places, and at all times, if under the same conditions, with
the same results. But, as to a fact, that is, whether an
action were actually performed at some other place or time,
or whether it ever would be, natural religion can give us
no information. Thus, we know by experience, that, if a
man fall from a precipice, he will be destroyed; but,
whether a man ever did so fall, much less whether A or B
did fall from it, we can never be informed by general principles. Thus, from the fact that we see guilt punished in
this world, we infer, from natural religion, that it will
always be punished in this world; we infer, though not so
certainly, that it will also be punished in another world, if
there be another world; but of the fact whether there be
another world, natural religion can give us no certain information; much less, can it give us any information
respecting the question whether God has actually done
any thing to remedy the evils of sin, and vary those
sequences which, without a remedy, experience shows us to
be inevitable.
4. Hence, natural religion must derive all its certain
motives from the present world. Those from the other
world are, so far as it is concerned, in their nature contingent
and uncertain. And, hence, it loses all that power over
man, which would be derived from the certain knowledge
of our existence after death, of the nature of that existence,
and of what God has done for our restoration to virtue and
h2ppiness. All these being facts, can never be known,




ï~~OF NATURAL RELIGION.

133

except by language, that is, by revelaticr.  They n.ist
always remain in utter incertitude, so long as we are left to
the teachings of natural religion.
We see, then, that natural religion is obliged to meet the
imhnpulsions from this world, solely by impulsions from this
world. Nay, more, she is obliged, to resist the power of
the present, of passion strengthened and confirmed by habit,
by considerations drawn from the distant, the future, and
what may seem to be the uncertain. Hence, its success must be at best but dubious, even when its power is
exerted upon those least exposed to the allurements of vice.
Who does not see that it is utterly vain, to hope for success from such a source, in our attempts to reform men in
general? Every one, who is at all acquainted with the
history of man, must be convinced, that nothing less powerful than the whole amount of motive derived from the
knowledge of an endless existence, has ever been found a
sufficient antagonist force, to the downward and headlong
tendencies of appetite and passion.
And hence, from the fact of the recorded failure of natural religion, as a means of reformation, and from the defects
inherent in its very nature, as a means of moral improvement, there seems clearly to exist a great need of some
additional moral force, to correct the moral evils of our
nature. It is surely not improbable that some additional
means of instruction and improvement may have been
granted to our race by a merciful Creator.
12




ï~~1;34

CHAPTER EIGHEITH.
RELA 1l;N BETWEEN NATURAL AND REVEALED REL G ON.
Ir wha. we have said be true, the defeots of natural
religion would lead us to expect, that some other means of
moral instruction would be afforded us. And, indeed, this
is the conclusion at which some of the wisest of the heathen
philosophers arrived, from a consideration of that utter
ignorance of futurity in which they were of necessity
plunged, by the most attentive study of natural religion.
They felt convinced, that the Deity would not have constructed a system of moral teaching, which led to impervious darkness, unless He intended, out of that very darkness, at some period or other, to manifest light.
But still more, I think that an attentive observation of
what natural religion teaches, and of its necessary and inherent defects, would afford us some grounds of expectation,
respecting the nature of that revelation wich should be
made. If we can discover the moral necessities of our
race, and can also discover in what respects, and for what
reason, the means thus far employed have failed to relieve
them, we may with certainty predict some of the character
istics which must mark any system, which should be devised to accomplish a decided remedy.
For example:
1. It is granted that natural religion does teach us
some unqestionable truths. Now, no truth can be inconsistent with itself. And hence it might be expected, that
whenever natural and revealed religion treated upon the same
subjects, they would teach in perfect harmony.   The
second instructor may teach more than the first; but so
far as they give instruction on the same subjects, if both
teach the truth, they must both teach the same lesson.
2. It is natural to expect that a revelation would give




ï~~RELATION.ETWEEN NATURAL, ETC.

1:35

us much information upon the subject of duty, which could
not be learned by the light of nature. Thus, it might be
expected to make known more clearly to us, than we could
otherwise learn them, the obligations by which we are
bound to our fellow-men, and to God; and also the manner
in which those obligations are to be discharged.
3. That it would present us with motives to virtue,,n
addition to those made known by the light of nature. We
have seen that the motives of natural religion are derived
from this world, and are in their nature insufficient. We
should expect that those in a revelation would be drawn
from some other source. And still more, as natural religion
may be considered to have exhausted the motives of this
world, it is surely not unreasonable to expect, that a revelation, leaving this world, would draw its motives principally,
if not entirely, from another, if it revealed to us the fact
that another world existed.
4. We should not expect that the Deity would employ
a second and additional means, to accomplish what could
be done by any modification of the means first employed.
Hence, if a revelation were made to men, we might reasonably expect, that it would make known to us such truths
as could not, in the nature of the case, be communicated
by natural religion.
These are, I think, just anticipations. At any rate, 1
think it must be admitted, that if a system of religion, purporting to be a revelation from heaven, met all these expectations, its relations to natural religion not only would present no argument against its truth, but would create a strong
a priori presumption in its favor.
Now these expectations are all fully realized in the
system of religion contained in the Scriptures of the Old
and New Testaments.
1. The truths of revealed religion harmonize perfectly
with those of natural religion. The difference between them
consists in this,-that the one teaches plainly, what the oth'i
teaches by inference; the one takes up the lesson whet.
the other leaves it, and adds to it other and vitally important
precepts. Nay, so perfect is the harmony between them,
that it may safely be asserted that not a single precept of




ï~~13 6

RELATION BETWEEN NATURAL

natural religion exists, which is not also found in the Bible,
and still more, that the Bible is every day directing us to
new lessons, taught us by nature, which, but for its information, would never have been discovered. So complete is
this coincidence, as to afford irrefragable proof that the
Bible contains the moral laws of the universe; and, hence,
that the Author of the universe-that is, of natural religion
-is also the Author of the Scriptures.
2. The Holy Scriptures, as has just been intimated,
give us much information on questions of duty, which could
not be obtained by the light of nature. Under this remark
may be classed the scriptural precepts respecting the domestic relations; respecting our duties to enemies, ai: d to
men in general; and especially respecting our obligations
to God, and the manner in which He may most acceptably
oe worsahipped.
3. The Scriptures present motives to the practice of virtue, additional, generically different from those of natural
religion, and of infinitely greater power.
1. The motives to virtue, from consequences in this
world, are strengthened by a clearer development of the
indissoluble connection between moral cause and effect,
than is made known by natural religion.
2. In addition to these motives, we are assured of our
existence after death; and eternal happiness and eternal
misery are set forth as the desert of virtue and vice.
3. The Scriptures reveal to us the Deity as assuming
new relations to us, and devising a most merciful way for
our redemption: by virtue of this new relation, establishing
a new ground of moral obligation between the race of man
and himself, and thus adding a power to the impulsion of
conscience, of which natural religion must, in the nature of
the case, be destitute.
4. It is manifest, that much of the above knowledge,
which the Scriptures reveal, is of the nature of fact; and,
therefore, could not be communicated to us by expenrence.
or in the way of general laws, but must be made known by
ianguage, 'hat is, by revelation.
SThus, the existence of a state of being after death, the
doctrine of the resurrection, of a universal and impartial




ï~~AND REVEALED RELIGION.

137

judgment, of an endless state of rewards and punishments,
of a remedial dispensation, by which the connection be
tween guilt and punishment may be conditionally severed;
the doctriae of the atonement, and the way in which a
man may avail himself of the benefits of this remedial dispensation;-all these are manifestly of great practical importance in a scheme of moral reformation; and yet, all of
them being of the nature of facts, they could be made
known to man in no other way than by language.
Now, as these seem clearly to be just anticipations respecting any system which should be designed to supply
the evident defects of natural religion, and as all these anticipations are realized in the system of religion contained
min the Scriptures, each one of these anticipations thus
realized furnishes a distinct a priori presumption in favor
of the truth of revealed religion. We do not pretend that
any, or that all of these considerations, prove the Scriptures
to be a revelation from God. This proof is derived from
other sources. What we would say, is this: that, from
what we know of God's moral government by the light of
lature, it is manifestly probable that he would give us some
additional instruction, and that that instruction would be,
in various important respects, analogous to that contained
in the Holy Scriptures. And we hence conclude, that
although it were granted-which, however, need not be
granted-that, were there no antecedent facts in the case, it
might seem unlikely that God would condescend to make a
special revelation of his will to men; yet, when the antecedent facts are properly considered, this presumption, if it
ever could be maintained, is now precisely reversed, and
that there now exists a fair presumption that such a revelation would actually be made. And hence we conclude,
that a revelation of the will of God by language is not, as
many persons suppose, an event so unlikely, that no evidence can be conceived sufficiently strong to render it
credible; but, that it is, on the contrary, an event, from all
that we know of God already, essentially probable; and
that it is, to say the least of it, as fairly within the limits of
evidence as any other event, and when proved, on the
ordinary principles of evidence, is as much entitled to
12 *




ï~~138       RELATION BETWEEN NATURAl, VTC
belief as any otner event. And hence W' conceive thai
when men demand, in support of the truth of revealed
religion, evidence minlike to that which is demaded in support of an) other event,-that is, evidence of which they
themselves cannot define the nature,-they den nd what is
manifestly unreasonable, and proceed upon a -resumption
wholly at variance with all the known facts in t* case.




ï~~139

CHAPTER NINTH.
THE HOLY SCRIPTURES.
THIS wouldH seem to be the place in which to present the
proof of the authenticity of the Holy Scriptures, as a
revelation firom God. This, however, being only a par
ticular exemplification of the general laws of evidence, it
belongs to the course of instruction in Intellectual Philosophy. It must therefore be here omitted. We shall, in
the remainder of these remarks, take it for granted, that
the Scriptures of the Old and New Testament contain a
revelation from God to man, and that these books contain all
that God has been pleased to reveal unto us by language;
and, therefore, all which is recorded in language that is
altimate in morals, and that is, by its own authority, binding
upon the conscience. Taking this for granted, we shall in
the present chapter consider, 1st, what the Scriptures contain; and, 2d, how we may ascertain our duty from the
Scriptures.
SECTION 1.
A VIEW OF THE HOLY SCRIPTURES.
The Holy Scriptures are contained in two separate
vrdumes, entitled 4the Old and the New Testament. These
volumes have each a distinct object, and yet their objects
are in perfect harmony; and, together, they contain all
that could be desired in a revelation to the human race.
The design of the Old Testament mainly is, to reveal a
systen- of simple law; to exhibit the results of such a system




ï~~40f)      A VIEW OF THE HOLY SCRIPTURES.
upon the human race, and to direct the minds of men to the
remedial dispensa son which was to follow. In accomplishing this design, it contains several distinct parts.
1. An account of the creation of the world, of the creation and fall of man, and a brief history of the race of man
until the deluge. The cause of this deluge is stated to be,
the universal and intense wickedness of man.
2. The account of the separation of a particular family,
the germ of a nation, designed to be the depositaries of the
revealed will of God; and the history of this nation, from
the call of Abraham until the return from the captivity in
Babylon, a period of about fifteen hundred years.
3. The system of laws which God gave to this nation.
These laws may be comprehended under three classes:
Moral laws, or those which arise from the immutable
relations existing between God and man.
Civil laws, or those enacted for the government of civil
society; adapted specially to the Jewish Theocracy, or that
form of government in which God was specially recognised
as King.
Ceremonial laws. These were of two kinds: First,
those which were intended to keep this nation separate from
other nations; and, second, those intended to prefigure
events which were to occur under the second or new.dispensation.
4. Various events in their history, discourses of prophets
and inspired teachers, prayers, odes of pious men; all tendng to illustrate what are the effects of a system of moral law
upon human nature, even when placed under the most fa
vorable circumstances; and also, to exhibit the effects of
the religious principle upon the soul of man under every
variety of time and condition.
The result of all this series of moral means seems to be
this. God, in various modes, suited to their condition, made
known his will to the whole human race. They all, with
the exception of a single family, became so corrupt, that he
destroyed them by a general deluge. He then selected a
single family, and gave them his written law, and, by peculiar enactments, secluded them from all other nations, that.he experiment might be made under the most favorable




ï~~A VIEW OF THE HOLY SCRIPTURES.

141

circumstances. At the same time, the effects of natural religion were tried among the heathen nations that surrounded
them. The result was, a clear demonstration that, under
the conditions of being in which man was created, any reformation was hopeless, and that, unless some other conditions were revealed, the race would perish by its own vicious
and anti-social tendencies, and enter the other world to reap
the reward of its guilt for ever. While this is said to be the
main design of the Old Testament, it is not to be understood that this is its whole design. It was intended to be
introductory to the new dispensation, and, also, to teach
those, to whom it was addressed, the way of salvation.
Hence, allusions to the principal events in the new dispensation, are every where to be met with. Hence, also, assurances of pardon are made to the penitent, and God is
represented as ready to forgive; though the procuring cause
of our pardon is not explicitly stated; but only alluded to
in terms which could not be fully understood, until the
remedial dispensation was accomplished.
The design of the New Testament is, to reveal to the
race of man the new conditions of being, under which it is
placed, by virtue of a remedial dispensation.
In pursuance of this design, the New Testament con
tains,--
1. A narrative of the life and death, resurrection and ascension, the acts and conversations, of Jesus of Nazareth; a
Being in whom the divine and human natures were mys
teriously united; who appeared on earth to teach us what
ever was necessary to be known of our relations to God
and, by his obedience to the law, and voluntary sufferings
and death, to remove the obstacles to our pardon, which,
unoer the former dispensation, existed in consequence of
he holiness of God.
2. A brief narrative of the facts relating to the progress
of the Christian religion, for several years after the ascension
of Jesus of Nazareth.
3. The instructions which his immediate followers, or
apostles, by divine inspiration, gave to the men of their own
time, and which were renderea necessary in consequence




ï~~142

HOW WE ARE TO ASCERTAIN

of their ignorance of the principles of religion, or the weak-.
mess of their virtue, and the imperfection of their faith.
The whole of this volume, taken together, teaches its
the precepts, the sanctions, and the rewards of the law of
God, with as great distinctness as we could desire; and
also a way of salvation, on different grounds from that revealed both by natural religion and by the Old Testament;
a way depending for merit, upon the doings and sufferings
of another, but yet available to us on no other conditions
than those of supreme, strenuous, and universal moral effort
after perfect purity of thought, and word and action.
This, being a remedial dispensation, is, in its nature,
fixed. We have no reason to expect any other; nay, the
idea of another would be at variance with the belief of the
truth of this. And, hence, the Scriptures of the Old and
New Testaments contain all that God has revealed to us
by language respecting his will. What is contained here
alone, is binding upon the conscience. Or, in the words
of Chillingworth, " THE BIBLE, THE BIBLE, THE RELIGION
OF PROTESTANTS."
SECTION II.
IN WHAT MANNER ARE WE TO ASCERTAIN OUR DUTY FROM THB
HOLY SCRIPTURES?
Taking it for granted that the Bible contains a revelation
of the will of God, such as is stated in the preceding section, it will still be of importance for us to decide how we
may ascertain, from the study of it, what God really requires
of us. Much of it is mere history, containing an unvarnished
narration of the actions of good and of bad men. Much of.t has reference to a less enlightened age, and to a particuar people, set apart from other people, for a special and
peculiar purpose. Much of it consists of exhortations and
Seproofs addressed to this people, in reference to the laws




ï~~OUR DUITTY FROM THE SCRIPTURES.

143

then existing, but which have been since abrogated. Now,
amidst this variety of instructions, given to men at different
times, and of different nations, it is desirable that the principles be settled, by which we may decide what portion of
this mass of instruotion is binding upon the conscience,
at the present moment. My object, in the present section,
is to ascertain, as far as possible, the principles by which
we are to be guided in such a decision.
When a revelation is made to us by language, it is taken
for granted, that whatever is our duty, will be signified to
us by a command; and hence, what is not commanded, is
not to be considered by us as obligatory.  Did we not
establish this limitation, every thing recorded, as, for instance, all the actions both of good and of bad men, might
be regarded as authority; and thus a revelation, given for
the purpose of teaching us our duty, might be used as an
instrument to confound all distinction between right and
wrong.
The ground of moral obligation, as derived from a revelation, must, therefore, be a command of God.
Now, a command seems to involve three ideas:
1. That an act be designated. This may be, by the
designation of the act itself, as, for instance, giving bread to
th' hungry; or else by the designation of a temper of mind,
as that of universal love, under which the above act, and
va ious other acts, are clearly comprehended.
5. That it be somehow signified to be the will of God,
th tt this act be performed. Without this intimation, every
act that is described, or even held up for our reprobation,
migit be quoted as obligatory.
3. That it be signified, that we are included within the
number to whom the command is addressed. Otherwise,
all the commandments, to the patriarchs and prophets,
whether ceremonial, symbolical, or individual, would be
binding upon every one who might read them. And hence,
min general, whosoever urges upon us any duty, as the coinmmand of God, revealed in the Bible, must show that Goo
has, somewhere, commanded that actwn to be done, and
that he has commanded us to do it.




ï~~144

HOW WE ARE TO ASCERTAIN

This principle will exclude,1. Every thing which is merely history. Much of the
Bible contains a mere narrative of facts. For the truth of
this narrative, the veracity of the Deity is pledged. We
may derive from the account of God's dealings, lessons of.nstruction to guide us in particular cases; and, from the
evil conduct of men, matter of warning.  But the mere
fact, that any thing has been done, and recorded in the
Scripture, by no means places us under obligation to
do it.
2. It excludes from being obligatory upon all, what has
been commanded, but which can be shown to have been
intended only for individuals, or for nations, and not for the
whole human race. Thus many commands are recorded in
the Scriptures, as having been given to individuals. Such
was the command to Abraham, to offer up his son; to
Moses, to stand before Pharaoh; to Samuel, to anoint Saul
and David; and a thousand others. Here, evidently, the
Divine direction was exclusively intended for the individual
to whom it was given. No one can pretend that he is
commanded to offer up his son, because Abraham was so
commanded.
Thus, also, many of the commands of God in the Old
Testament were addressed to nations. Such were the
directions to the Israelites to take possession of Canaan; to
rhake war upon the surrounding nations; to keep the cerenonial law; and so of various other instances. Now of
such precepts, it is to be observed, 1. They are to be
obeyed only at the time and in the manner in which they
were commanded. Thus, the Jews, at present, would have
no right, in virtue of the original command, to expel the
Mahometans from Palestine; though the command to
Joshua was a sufficient warrant for expelling the Canaanites, at the time in which it was given. 2. They are of
fo(brce only to those to whom they were given. Thus, supposing the ceremonial law was not abolished; as it was
given specially to Jews, and to no one else, it would bind
no one but Jews now. Supposing it to be abolished, it of
course now binds no one. For if, when in force, it was ob



ï~~OUR DUTY FROM THE SCRIPTUREs.

145.igatory on no one but the Jews, and was nothing to anb one
else; when it is abolished, as to them, it is nothing to an,
me. Such is the teaching of St. Paul on this subject.
3. It would exclude whatever was done by inspired mnien,
if it was done without the addition of being somehow commanded. Thus, the New Testament was manifestly intended for the whole human race, and at all times; and it
was written by men who were inspired by God to teach us
His will. But still, their example is not binding per se;
that is, we are not under obligation to perform an act, simpli
because they have done it. Thus, Paul and the other aposties kept the Feast of Pentecost; but this imposes no such
obligation upon us. Paul circumcised Timothy; but this
imposes no obligation upon us to do likewise: for upon
another occasion he did not circumcise Titus. The examples of inspired men in the New Testament would,
unless exception be made, prove the lawfulness of an act;
but it could by no means establish its obligatoriness.
This principle will include as obligatory,1. Whatever has been enjoined as the will of God upon
man as man, min distinction from what has been enjoined
upon men as individuals or as nations. The command
may be given us, 1. By God himself, as when he proclaimed
his law from Mount Sinai; or, 2. By the Mediator Christ
Jesus; or, 3. By any persons divinely commissioned to
instruct us in the will of God; as prophets, apostles, or
evangelists. This includes, as obligatory on the conscience,
simply what is proved to be intended, according to the
established principles of interpretation. But it by no
means includes any thing which man may infer from what
is thus intended. Any idea which man adds to the idea
given in the Scriptures, is the idea of man, and has no
more obligation on the conscience of his fellow men, than
any other idea of man.
But it may be asked, granting that nothing but a Divine
mmand is obligatory on the conscience, yet, as general
and particular commandments in the Scriptures are Irequently, in a considerable degree, blended together, how
waly we learn to distinguish that part which is obligatory
13




ï~~146

Â~HOW WE ARE TO ASCERTAIN

apon us, from that which is in its nature local a:id peculiai
In attempting to answer this question, I would suggest,That the distinction of nations or individuals is nowhere
adverted to in the New Testament. Its instructions are
clearly intended for men of all ages and nations; and hence
they never involve any thing either local or peculiar, but are
universally binding upon all. The question must therefore
refer to the Old Testament.
If we confine ourselves, then, to the Old Testament, this
question may be decided on the following principles:
4. In by far the greater number of cases, we shall be
able to decide, by reference to the nature of the Jewish
commonwealth; a temporary or preparatory dispensation,
which was to cease when that to which it was preparatory
had appeared.
2. The New Testament, being thus intended for the
whole human race, and being a final revelation of the will
of God to man, may be supposed to contain all the moral
precepts, both of natural religion and of the Old Testament, together with whatever else it was important to our
salvation that we should know. If, then, a revelation has
been made in the Old Testament, which is repeated in the
New Testament, we shall be safe in making the later revelation the criterion, by which we shall judge respecting the
precepts of the earlier. That is to say, no precept of the
Old Testament, which is not either given to man as man,
or which is not either repeated, or its obligations acknowledged, under the new dispensation, is binding upon us ai
the present day. This principle is, I think, avowed, in
substance, by the Apostle Paul, in various places in his
Epistles. While he repeatedly urges the moral precepts
of the Old Testament, as of unchanging obligation, he
speaks of every thing else, so far as moral obligation is
concerned, as utterly annihilated.
Such, then, are the means afforded to us by our Creator,
for acquiring a knowledge of our duty. They are, first,
natural religion; second, the Old Testament or a dispensation of law; third, the Gospel, a remeda "lispensation,
or a dispensation of grace.




ï~~OUR DUTY FROM THE SCRIPTURES.

The relation existing between our moral power, and
these means of moral cultivation, may, I suppose, be stated
somewhat as follows:
1. By conscience, we attain a feeling of moral obligation towarc s the various beings to whom we are related.
The elements of this feeling are developed as soon as we
come to the knowledge of the existence and attributes of
those beings, and the relation in which we stand to them.
Such elements are, the feeling of obligation of reciprocity
to man, and of universal love and obedience to our Creator.
2. In order to illustrate the relations in which we stand
to other beings, created and uncreated, as well as to teach
us His character and His will concerning us, God has given
us other means of instruction.
1. He has so arranged and governed all the events of
this world, as to illustrate His character by His dealings
with men; and He has given us powers, by which we
may, if we will, acquire the knowledge thus set before us
The fact that we may acquire this knowledge of the will
of God, and that we are so constituted as to feel that we
ought to do the will of God, renders us responsible for
obedience to all the light which we may acquire.
2. In the utter failure of this mode of instruction to
reclaim men, God has seen fit to reveal His will to us by
language. Here the truth is spread before us, without the
necessity of induction from a long and previous train of
reasoning.  This knowledge of the will of God, thus
obtained, renders man responsible for the additional light
thus communicated.
In the same manner, when this means failed to produce any important moral result, a revelation has been
made, instructing us still farther concerning our duties to
God, His character and will; and, above all, informing us
of a new relation in which the Deity stands to us, and of
those new conditions of being under which we are placed
And we are, in consequence of our moral constitution,
rendered responsible for a conduct corresponding to all this
additional moral light, and consequent moral obligation.
Now, if it be remembered that we are under obligations,




ï~~148

HOW WE ARE TO ASCERTAIN

greater than we can estirnate, to obey the will of God, by
what manner soever signified, and that we are under obligation, therefore, to obey Him, if he had given us no other
intimation of His will, than merely the monition of conscience, unassisted by natural or revealed religion, how
greatly must that obligation be increased, when these additional.means of information are taken into the account!
And, if the guilt of our disobedience be in proportion to the
Knowledge of our duty, and if that knowledge of our duty
ne so great that we cannot readily conceive how, consistently with the conditions of our being, it could have
been greater, we may judge how utterly inexcusable must
be every one of our transgressions. Such does the Bible
represent to be the actual condition of man; and hence it
every where treats him as under a just and awful condemnation; a condemnation from which there is no hope of
escape, but by means of the special provisions of a remedial dispensation.
It belongs to theology to treat of the nature of this
remedial dispensation. We shall, therefore, attempt no
exhibition, either of its character or its provisions, beyond
a simple passing remark, to show its connections with our
present subject.
The law of God, as revealed in the Scriptures, represents our eternal happiness as attainable upon the simple
ground of perfect obedience, and perfect obedience upon
the principles already explained. But this, in our present
state, is manifestly unattainable. A single sin, both on the
ground of its violation of the conditions on which our
future happiness was suspended, as well as by the effects
which it produces upon our whole subsequent moral char
acter, and our capacity for virtue, renders our loss of happiness inevitable. Even after reformation, our moral attainment must fall short of the requirements of the law
of God, and thus present no claim to the Divine favor.
For this reason, our salvation is made to depend upon the
obedience and merits of another. But we are entitled to
hope for salvation upon the ground of the merit of Christ,
solely upon the condition of yielding ourselves up in entire




ï~~OUR DUTY  IROM THE SCRIPTURES.       149
obedience to the whole law of God. " He that saith, I
know Him, and keepeth not His commandments, is a liar,
and the truth is not in him."  John ii. 4. And hence a
knowledge of the law of God is of just as great importance
to us under a remedial dispensation, as under a dispensation of law; not on the ground that we are to be saved
by keeping it without sin; but on the ground that, unless
the will of God be the habitually controlling motive of all
our cond&ict, we are destitute of the elements of that character, to which the blessings of the remedial dispensation
are promised. Hence, under the one dispensation, as well
as under the other, though on different grounds, the knowledge of the law of God is necessary to our happiness both
here and hereafter.
13*




ï~~


ï~~151

BOOK SECOND.
PRACTICAL ETHICS,
IN the preceding pages it has been my design to illus.
trate the moral constitution of man, and to point out the
sources from which that truth emanates, which is addressed
to his moral constitution. My design in the present book
is, to classify and explain some of the principal moral laws
under which God has placed us in our present state.  We
shall derive these laws from natural or from revealed religion,
or from both, as may be most convenient for our purpose.
The Scriptures declare that the whole moral law is contained in the single word LOVE.
The beings to whom man is related in his present state,
are, so far as this subject is concerned, God his Creator, and
man his fellow-creature. Hence the moral obligations of
men are of two kinds; first, LOVE TO GOD, or PIETY;
second, LOVE TO MAN, or MORALITY.
This book will, therefore, be divided into two parts, in
which those wo subjects will be treated of in their order




ï~~152

PART 1.
LOVE TO GOD, OR PIETY.
CHAPTER FIRST.
THE GENERAL OBLIGATION TO SUPREME LOVE TO GOD.
THE scriptural precept on this subject may be found
recorded in various passages. It is in these words: " Thou
shalt love the Lord thy God with all thy heart, and with
all thy soul, and with all thy mind, and with all thy
strength." See Matthew xxii, 37; Mark xii, 30- Luke
x, 27.
In order to illustrate this precept, I shall consider, first,
the relation which exists between us and the Deity; secondly, the rights and obligations which that relation imposes;
and, thirdly, the facts in our constitution which show that
chese are manifestly the law of our being.
I. The relation which exists between God and us.
1. He is our Creator and Preserver. A few years since,
and we had no existence. Within a few more years, and
this whole system, of which we form a part, had no existence. Over our own existence, neither we, nor any created
thing, has any more than the semblance of power. We are
upheld in being by the continued act of Omnipotence. Not
only we, ourselves, but every faculty which we and which
all creatures enjoy, was created, and is continually upheld,
by the same Creator. Nor this alone; all the circumstances by which we are surrounded, and all the modifica
tions of external nature, of what sort soever they may be,
whether physical, intellectual, social, or moral, are equally
created and sustained by God 'nd derive their powers to




ï~~OBLIGATION TO THE LOVE OF GOD,

I VJ

render u., happy, or wise, or good, purely from his provide n
care, and from the exertion of his omnipotent and omnipresent goodness. The relation, therefore, existing between
the Deity and us, is that of dependence, more profound,
universal, and absolute, than we are able adequately to comprehend, upon a Being, absolutely and essentially independent, omniscient, omnipotent, and all-providing.
2. The Deity has revealed himself to us, as a Being im
whom are united, by the necessity of his existence, every
perfection of which the human mind can conceive, and every
perfection that can possibly exist, how much soever they
may transcend the powers of our conception. To Him belong, from the necessity of His being, almighty power, omuiscient wisdom, unchanging veracity, inflexible justice,
transcendent purity, illimitable benevolence, and universal
love. Not only does He treasure up within Himself all
that can be conceived of every perfection, but He is the
exhaustless fountain, from which emanates all of these attributes, that exists throughout this wide creation. As
every object that we see in nature, is seen only by its reflecting rays of the sun, so every exhibition of goodness
which we behold in creatures, is nothing but the reflection
of the perfections of Him who is the Father of Lights, with
whom is neither variableness nor the shadow of a turning.
The relation, therefore, in this respect, which exists between
us and the Creator, is that which exists between.beings whom
He has formed to admire and love all these perfections, and
the Uncreated Being, in whom they all exist, in a degree infinitely surpassing all that it is in our power to conceive.
3. This creative power, and this incomprehensible wisdom, have been exerted in obedience to all these transcendent moral perfections, for the production of our best
good, our highest temporal and eternal happiness; nay,
they have been as fully exerted in behalf of our race, as
though there were no other race in existence; and in behalf of each one of us, as though each individual were the
only being created, within this illimitab)' universe. Ar d
upon aii this exertion of goodness towards us, we have not
the semblance of a claim; for God was under no manner,f obi gation to create us, much less, to create us capable




ï~~154

OBLIGATION ro T IE LOVE OF GOD.

of that happiness which we enjoy. The relation, therefore
in this respect, existing between us and the Deity, is that
between beings who, without any claim whatever, are, at
every moment, receiving the results of the exercise of every
conceivable perfection, from a Beirg who is moved thus to
conduct towards them, by nothing but His own independent
goodness.
II. From these relations, existing between creatures amt
the Creator, there arise various rights of the Creator, and
various obligations of the creature.
Every one, who will reflect upon this subject, must be
convinced, that, inasmuch as these relations are entirely
beyond the range of human analogies, and also manifestly
beyond the grasp of finite conception, they must involve
obligations, in their very nature more profound and universal, than we can adequately comprehend; and that, therefore, no conception of ours can possibly transcend their
solemnity and awfulness. As, in our present state, we are
so little able to understand them, or even to inquire after
them, we see the need of instruction concerning them, from
Him, who alone, of all beings that exist, can fathom thei
depth, or measure their immensity. Let us, therefore, inquire, What are the claims which, in his revealed word, God
asserts over us, and what are the obligations which, in his
sight, bind us to Him?
1. By virtue of his relation to us as Creator, he asserts
over us the right of unlimited possession. Inasmuch as we
are his creatures, we are his in the highest and most exten
sive sense, in which we can conceive of the idea of posses
sion. Neither we ourselves, nor any thing which we seen,
to possess, are our own. Even our wills are not our own,
but he claims that we shall only will precisely what lie
wills. Our faculties, of what sort soever, are not our own
He claims that, from the commencement of our existence,.hey be used precisely in the manner, for the purposes,
and within the limits, that He shall direct. Not only does
God assert this right in his word, but we find that he actually exercises it. Without regard to what we will, He
does his pleasure, in the arnes of heaven and among the
inhabitants of the earth. He takes from us health, posses



ï~~OBLIGATION TO THE LOVE OF GOD.

 55

nons, friends, faculties, life, and He giveth not account of
any of his matters. That is, he manifestly acts upon the
principle, that He is the Sovereign and rightful Proprietor,
both of ourselves, and of all that we seem to ourselves to
possess.
And, thus, on the other hand, God asserts that we,re all
under obligations, greater and more solemn than we can
possibly conceive, to render to Him that entire obedience
and submission, which his essential right over us renders
manifestly his due.
This right, and the correspondent obligation, have respect to two classes of duties. The first class, is that which
respects simply our relations to him, and which would be
obligatory upon us, although each one of us were the only
created being in the universe. The second class of duties
respects our fellow-creatures. If we could suppose moral
creatures to exist without a Creator, there would yet be
duties which, from their constitution as moral creatures,
they would owe to each other. But, inasmuch as ever
creature is the creature of God, He has made'the duties
which they owe to each other, a part of their duty to Him.
That is to say, he requires us, who are his creatures, and
who are under universal obligatioris to him, to treat our
fellow-creatures, who are also his creatures, and under his
protection, in such a manner as he shall direct. He is the
Father of us all, and he requires that every one of his
children conduct himself towards others, who are also his
children, as he shall appoint. And, hence, the duties
which are required of us to our fellow-creatures, are required
of us under a twofold obligation. First, that arising from
our relation to God, and, secondly, that arising from our
relation to our fellows. And, hence, there is not a single
act which we are under obligation to perform, which we
are not also under obligation to perform from the principle
of obedience to our Creator. Thus the obligation to act
religiously, or piously, extends to the minutest action of our
lives, and no action of any sort whatever can be, in the
full acceptation of the term, virtuous, that is, be entitled
to the praise of God, which does not involve in its motiv s
the temper of filial obedience to the Deity.  And still more,




ï~~156

OBLIGATION TO THE LOVE OF GOD

as tlhis obligation is infinitely superior to any other that can
be conceived, an action performed from the conviction of
any other obligation, if this obligation be excluded, fails, in
infinitely the most important respect; and must, by the
whole amount of this deficiency, expose us to the condemnation of the law of God, whatever that condemnation
may be.
And, once more, we are taught, in the Scriptures, that
the relation in which we stand to the Deity, places us
under such obligations, that, while our whole and uninterrupted service is thus due to God, we can, after it is ahl
performed, in no manner bring him under any obligation to
us. This I suppose to be the meaning intended by our
Savior, in the parable, Luke xvii, 7-10: "But which of
you, having a servant, (a slave,) ploughing or feeding
cattle, will say unto him, by and by, when he is come from
the field, Go and sit down to meat; and will not rather
say unto him, Make ready wherewith I may sup, and gird
thyself and serve me, until I have eaten and drunken; and
afterwardsthou shalt eat and drink?  Doth he thank that
servant because he hath done the things that were commanded him?   I suppose not. So, likewise ye, when ye
have done all the things which are commanded you, say,
We are unprofitable servants, we have done that which was
our duty to do." That is, the obligation of the servant is
not fulfilled by doing any one thing, but only by occupying
his whole time, and exerting his whole power, to its full
extent, in doing whatever is commanded him. And when
all this is done, such is the relation between the parties,
that he has placed the Master, God, under no obligation;
he has only discharged a duty; he has merely paid a debt;
nor is it possible, from the nature of the relation, that he
should ever do any thing more. Such, I think, every one
will acknowledge, upon reflection, to be the relation existing between us and our Creator.
And, hence, we see, that a failure in duty to God, on
the part of the creature, must be remediless. At every
moment, he is under obligation to the full amount of his
ability; and, when this whole amount of obligation is discharged, he has then simply fidulfilled his duty. Hence, no




ï~~OBLIGATION TO THE LOVE OF GOD.

157

act can have any retrospective effect; that is, it cann.t
supply the deficiencies of any other act. This would be
the case, e, mn if his moral powers were not injured by sin
But, if we add this other element, and reflect, that, by sin,
our moral pow3rs are permanently injured; that is, our
capacity for virtue is diminished, according to the laws of
our constitution; by how much more is it evident, that,
under a system of mere law, a single failure in our duty to
God must be of necessity fatal! What shall we then say,f a life, of which every act is, when strictly considered by
'infession, a moral failure?
2. God has revealed himself to us as a Being endowed
with every attribute of natural and moral excellence; and,
in virtue of the relation which, on this account, he sustains
to us, a new form of obligation is imposed upon as.
We are evidently formed to love whatever is beautiful,
and to admire whatever is great in power, or excellent in
wisdom. This is too evident to need illustration.  But
we are so made as to love and admire still more the cause
from which all these emanate. We admire the tragedies of
Shakspeare, and the epic of Milton, but how much more
the minds in which these works were conceived, and by
which they were executed. Now, all that we see in
creation, whether of beauty, or loveliness, or grandeur, is
the work of the Creator. It all existed in His conceptions,
before it existed in fact. Nor this alone. The powers by
which we perceive, and are affected by, these exhibitions,
all proceed from Him, and both the external qualities and
the internal susceptibilities are upheld by his all-sustaining
energy. Thus, every feeling of love or of admiration
which we exercise, involves, from the constitution of our
nature, the obligation to exercise these feelings, in a higher
degree towards Him who is the author of all. But, as He
is the author, not only of whatever is lovely or glorious that
we see, but of all that we have ever seen; not only of all
that we have ever seen, but of all that has ever existed;
not only of all that has ever existed, but of all that ever can
exist; by how much are we under obligation to love 'lim
better than al things else that we know! and by ao'
14




ï~~158      OBLIGATION TO THE LOVE OF GOD. ruch more than any individual form of excellence, wit,
which it is possible for us ever to become acquainted.
Again, God reveals himself to us as the possessor of
every moral al tribute, in infinite perfection. In him are
united infinitely more than we or other created beings can
conceive, of justice, holiness, mercy, compassion, goodness
and truth. Now we are manifestly formed to love and
admire actions emanating from such attributes, as they are
exhibited on earth, and specially the moral characters of
those by whom such actions are performed. We are not
only formed to do this, but we are specially formed to do
it. We are created with an impulsion to exercise these
affections, and we are conscious that it is the highest impulsion of our nature. Now, whatever we see of moral excellence on earth, springs from Him, as its first and original
cause.   He created the circumstances under which it
exists, and created, with all its powers, the being by
whom   it is displayed. Nor this alone. He possesses,
essentially, and in an infinite degree, and without the possibility of imperfection, every moral attribute. If, then, the
highest impulsion of our nature teaches us to love and
venerate these attributes, even as they are displayed in
their imperfection on earth, by how much more are we
under obligation to love these attributes, as they are possessed by our Father who is in heaven! If a single act of
justice deserves our veneration, how much more should we
venerate that justice which has governed this universe
without the shadow of a spot, from eternity! If a single
act of purity deserves our regard, with what awe should we
adore the holiness of Him, in whose sight the heavens are
unclean! If a single act of benevolence deserve our love
with what affection should we bow before Him, who, from
eternity, has been pouring abroad a ceaseless flood of blessedness, over the boundless universe by which He is sur
rounded!
And yet more, I think it is manifest that we are so constituted as to be under obligations to love such attributes as
I have mentioned, entirely aside from the consideration of
their connection with ourselves. We admire justice and




ï~~OBLIGATION TO THE LOVE OF GOD.

159

benevolence in men who existed ages ago, and in countries
with which we have no interests in common. And tnus
these obligations to love and adore these attributes in the
Deity, would exist in full force, irrespective of the fact of
our receiving any benefit from them. And our Creator
might, and justly would, require of us all these affections
of which I have spoken, did these moral attributes exist min
some other being besides himself. The obligation is sustained upon the simple consideration, that we are constituted
such moral beings as we are, and that another Being exists,
endowed with attributes, in this particular manner, corresponding to our moral constitution. By how much is this
obligation increased, by the consideration that He, in whom
these attributes exist, stands to us in the relation of Creator!
3 As, by the constitution of our moral nature, we are
under obligation to love whatever is morally excellent, irrespective of any benefit which we may derive from it ourselves, so, when this moral excellence is intentionally the
source of happiness to us, we are under the additional
obligation to gratitude, or a desire to do something which
shall please Him, from whom our happiness has proceeded.
This obligation is so manifestly recognized as one of the
instinctive impulses of our nature, that, whilst we merely
esteem him who acts in obedience to it, the neglect of it,
without the exhibition of the positively opposite temper, is
always met by the feeling of intense moral reprobation.
Now, since whatever of favor we receive from others, is
derived from them merely as second causes, it all originates,
essentially, from the First and All-pervading Cause. Whatever gratitude we feel, therefore, towards creatures, is
really, and in the highest possible sense, due to God, from
whom it all really emanates.
But how small is that portion of the happiness which w'
enjoy, which is conferred by the favor of our fellows.
Immeasurably the greater part is the direct gift of our
Creator. The obligation to gratitude, is in proportion to
the amount of benefits conferred, and the disinterestedine s
of the goodness from which they have proceeded. By these'
elements, let us estimate the amount of obligatioi of grat
itude to God.




ï~~160      OF LIGATL- N TO THE LOVE OF GOD.

As the Deity is estentially independent of all his crea
tures, and as He has created us from nothing, and as He
has created, also, all the cir,mstances under which we
exist, He can be under no sort of obligation to us, nor can
our relation to Him ever be of any other sort, than that of
the recipients of favor, which we can by no possibility
merit.
Under such circumstances, a sensation of happiness, for
a single moment, even if it terminated with that single
moment, would be a course for gratitude so long as it could
be remembered. How much more, if this form of happiness continued throughout our whole extent of being!
The enjoyment of one form of happiness, say of that derived from a single sense, would deserve our gratitude; how
much more that derived from all our senses, and specially
that derived from  the combination of them  all! The
enjoyment of ever so transient a sensation of intellectual
happiness, would deserve our gratitude; how much more
that of a permanent constitution, which was a source of
perpetual intellectual happiness, and specially a constitution
involving a great variety of forms of intellectual happiness!
Thus, also, a single emotion of moral happiness would
deserve our gratitude; how much more a constitution
formed for perpetual moral happiness! And yet more, if
these forms of happiness, taken singly, would be each a
cause of perpetual and increasing gratitude, how much
more a constitution, by which the very relations which they
sustain to each other, become a source of additional and
increased happiness! Add to this, that the external world
is itself adjusted to all these powers and susceptibilities of
man, and each adjustment is manifestly intended for our
best good. And add to this, that such are the conditions
of being under which we are placed, that, if we only use
these powers according to the will of God, and' to the
nature which He has given us, that is, in such a way as to
promote oir highest happiress here, we shall be advanced
to a state of hapriness more excellent and glorious than
any of which we;an conceive; and we shall be fixed in it
unchangeably and for ever. Now, if a single act of disinterested goodness, and undeserved favor, deserve our grati




ï~~OBLIGATION TO THE LOVE OF GOD.

161

tude for ever, what limits can be set to the intensity of
that grateful adoration, which should, throughout our whole
being, pervade our bosoms, towards Him from whom every
blessing is perpetually flowing, in so exhaustless a flood of
unfathomable goodness!
Such, then, are the obligations to love and gratitude,
which, in addition to that of obedience, we owe to our
Creator. But it deserves to be remarked, that these forms
of obligation reciprocally involve each other.  For if
we possess that temper of entire obedience, which springs
from a recognition of the universal right of the Creator
over us, we shall dedicate our affections to Him, as entirely
as our will; that is, we shall love only what he commands,
and just as he has commanded; that is, we shall not only
do his will, but we shall love to do it, not only on account
of what he is in himself, but also on account of what he
is and always has been to us. And, on the other hand, if
we love his character and attributes as they deserve, we
shall love to perform actions which are in harmony with
those attributes; that is, which spring from the same dispositions in ourselves. In other words, we shall love to
act in perfect accordance with the will of God. And still
more, if we are penetrated with a proper conviction of the
obligations of gratitude under which we are placed, we
shall love to please our Supreme Benefactor; and the only
way in which we can do this, is, by implicitly obeying his
commands.
It was remarked, in a formfer part of this work, that hap
piness consists in the exercise of our sensitiveness upon its
appropriate objects. Now, that man has moral sentiments,
that is, that he is formed to derive happiness from the contemplation of moral qualities, and specially from the love
of those beings in whom these moral qualities reside, is too
evident to need argument. It is also evident, that this is
the highest and most exalted form of happiness of which
he is susceptible. But created beings, and the mo, al
qualities of created beings, are not the objects adapted to
his moral sensitiveness. This power of our being, finds its
appropriate object in nothing less than in supreme, and
anlimnited, and infinite moral perfection. And yet more,
14*




ï~~162

OBLIGATION TO THE LOVE OF GOD.

the n  al susceptibility of happiness expands by exercise,
and the uncreated object to which it is directed, is, by
necessity, unchangeable, eternal and infinite. A provision
is thus made for the happiness of man, eternal and illimitable; that is to say, not only is it evident, from the constitution of man, that he is made to love God, but also that
he is made to love Him infinitely more than any thing else;
to be happier from loving Him than from loving any thing
else; and, also, to be more and more intensely happy, from
loving Him, throughout eternity.
Thus, in general, from the relations which we sustain to
God, we are under more imperative obligations than we
are able ) conceive, to exercise towards him that temper
of heart, which is, perhaps, in the language of men, best
expressed by the term, a filial disposition; that is, a disposition to universal obedience, pervaded by the spirit of
supreme and grateful affection. This temper of heart is
that generically denominated in the Scriptures, faith. In
the New Testament, it is somewhat modified by the relations in which we stand to God, in consequence of the provisions of the remedial dispensation.
Now, all these dispositions would be required of us, if
we were sinless beings, and possibly no others would be
required. The same are manifestly our duty, after we have
sinned; for our sin changes neither the character of God,
nor His claim upon our obedience and affection. A child
who has done wrong, is not under any the less imperative
obligation to exercise a filial disposition towards a parent.
But, suppose a creature to have sinned, it is manifest, that
he would be under obligations to exercise another moral
disposition. He ought to regret his fault, not on account
of its consequences to himself, but on account of the violation of moral obligation, which is the essence of its guiltiness.  Acknowledging its utter wrongfulness, justifying
God, and taking all the blame of his act upon himself, he
ought to hate his own act, and from such feelings to the
act, as well as from the temper of filial obedience to God,
commence a life of moral purity. Such is repentance.
This is the temper of heart, which the Scriptures teach us,
dlat God requires of us as sinners.




ï~~OBLIGATION TO THE LOVE OF GOD.

1b3. 1.. Such, then, is the obligation under which, by oui
erea tion, we stand to God. It would be easy to show that
bthis is the only principle of action suited to our nature,:nder the present constitution.
For, 1. As we live under a constitution of law, that is,
under which every action is amenable to law, and since to
every action is affixed, by omnipotent power and unsearchable wisdom, rewards or punishments, both in this life
and also in the other, and, as these consequences can,
by rno power of ours, be severed from the action, it is manifest  hat we can attain to happiness, and escape from
mis', only by perfectly obeying the will of our Creator.
An yet more, since we are creatures, endowed with will,
an' the power of choice, we never can be completely
happy, unless we act as w'e choose; that is, unless we
obey because we love to obey. Hence, from the elements
of our constitution, it is evident, we can be happy on no
other principles than those of perfect obedience to God,
and obedience emanating from, and pervaded by, love.
2., The same truth is evident, from a consideration of the
relations which every individual sustains to the whole race
of man. It manifestly enters into the constitution under
which we exist, that every individual shall have a power
over society, both for good and for evil, so far as we can
see, in its nature illimitable. That such is the fact will be
evident to every one who will reflect for a moment upon
the results emanating from the lives of St. Paul, Luther,
Howard, Clarkson, or Wilberforce; and of Alexander,
Julius Caesar, Voltaire, Lord Byron, or Napoleon. Now,
it is only necessary to recollect, that the being, possessed of
this power, is by nature utterly ignorant of the future;
wholly incapable, even during life, and much more after
death, of controlling and directing the consequences of his
actions; and still more, that he is fallible,-that is, liable
not only to err from ignorance, but also from a wrong
moral bias; and we must be convinced that the exercise
of this power could never be safe for his fellows, unless it
were under the supreme direction of a Being who knew
the end from  the beginning, and who was by his very
nature incapable of wrong.




ï~~(164      OBLIGATION TO THE LOVE OF GOD.
From what has been said, it will follow, that our duty to
God forbids,1. Idolatry,-that is, rendering divine homage to any
other being than the Deity.
2. Rendering obedience to any creature, in opposition to
the will of the Creator.
3. Yielding obedience to our own will, or gratifying our
own desires, in opposition to His will.
4. Loving any thing which He has forbidden.
5. Loving any thing which He has allowed us to love,
ii a manner and to a degree that He has forbidden.
6. Loving any thing created in preference to Him.
Each of these topics is susceptible of extended illustraLion. As, however, they are discussed in full in works on
theology, to which science they more particularly belong,
we shall leave them with this simple enumeration.
In treating of the remainder of this subject, we shall,
therefore, consider only the means by which the love of
God, or piety, may be cultivated. These are three: 1st. A
spirit of devotion. 2d. Prayer. 3d. The observance of
the Sabbath.




ï~~165

3HAPTER SECOND
TIHE CULTIVATION OF A DEVOTIONAL SPIRIT.
FnoM what has already been said, it will be seen that the
relation which we sustain to God, imposes upon us the obligation of maintaining such an habitual temper towards Him,
as shall continually incite us to do whatever will please Him.
It is natural to suppose that our Creator would have placed
us under such circumstances as would, from their nature,
cultivate in us such a temper. Such we find to be the fact.
We are surrounded by objects of knowledge, which not
merely by their existence, but also by their ceaseless
changes, remind us of the attributes of God, and of the obligations under which we are placed to Him. A devotional spirit consists in making the moral use which is intended,
of all the objects of intellection that come within our experience or our observation.
1. Our existence is dependent on a succession of
-hanges, which are taking place at every moment in ourselves, over which we have no power whatever, but of
which, each one involves the necessity of the existence and
the superintending power of the Deity. The existence of
the whole material universe is of the same nature. Now,
each of these changes is, with infinite skill, adapted to the
relative conditions of all the beings whom they affect; and
they are subjected to laws which are most evident expressions of almighty power, of unsearchable wisdom, and of
exhaustless goodness. Now, were we merely intellectual
beings, it would not be possible for us to consider any thing
more than these laws themselves; but, inasmuch as we are
intellectual, and also noral beings, we are capable not only
of considering the laws, but also the attributes of the Creator
from whom such laws are the emanations. As every thing
which we can know teaches a lesson concerning God, if we




ï~~166

I HE CULTIVATION OF

connect tha: lesson with every thing which we learn, every
thing will be resplendent with the attributes of Deity. By
using in this manner, the knowledge which is every where
spread before us, we shall habitually cultivate a devout temper of mind. Thus, "the heavens will declare unto us the
glory of God, and the firmament will show his handy-work;
thus day unto day will utter speech, and night unto night
show forth knowledge of Him."
2. Nor is this true of physical nature alone. The whole
history of the human race teaches us the same lesson. The
rewards of virtue, and the punishments of vice, as they are
beheld in the events which befall both individuals and
nations, all exhibit the attributes of the Deity. It is He
that "stilleth the noise of the seas, the noise of their waves,
and the tumult of the people."  "The Lord reigneth, let
the earth rejoice; let the multitude of isles be glad thereof.
Clouds and darkness are round about him; righteousness
and judgment are the habitation of his throne." His forbearance and long-suffering, and at the same time His inflexible justice, His love of right, and His hatred of wrong,
are legibly written in every page of individual and national
history. And hence it is, that every fact which we witness in the government of moral beings, has a twofold chain
of connections and relations. To the mere political economist or the statesman, it teaches the law by which cause
and effect are connected. To the pious man it also teaches
the attributes of that Being, who has so connected cause
and effect; and who, amidst all the intricate mazes of
human motive and social organization, carries forward His
laws with unchanging certainty and unerring righteousness.
Now, it is by observing not merely the law, but the moral
lesson derived from the law; it is by observing not merely
the connections of events with each other, but, also, their
connection with the Great First Cause, that a devotional
spirit is to be cult'ated.
And, hence, we see that knowledge o" every kind, if suitably improved, has, in its very nature, a tendency to devotion. If we do not thus use it, we sever it from its most important connections. We act simply as intellectual, and not
as moral beings. We act contrary to the highest and most




ï~~A DEVOTIONAL SPIRIT.

1617

noble principles of our constitution. And, hence, we see how
progress in knowledge really places us rnder progressive
obligations to improvement in piety. This should be borne
in mind by every man, and specially by every educated
man, For this improvement of our knowledge, God holds
us accountable. "Because they regard not the works of
the Lord, nor consider the operations of his hand, therefore will He destroy them."
3. But if such are the obligations resting upon us, firom
our relation to the works of Nature and Providence, how
much are these obligations increased by our knowledge of
God, as it is presented to us by revelation! I suppose that
a person acquainted with the laws of optics, who had always stood with his back to the sun, might acquire much
important knowledge of the nature of light, and of the path
of the sun through the heavens, by reasoning from the reflection of that light, observed in the surrounding creation.
But how uncertain would be this knowledge, compared with
that which he would acquire, by looking directly upon the
sun, and tracing his path by his own immediate observation! So of revelation. Here, we are taught by language, that truth, which we otherwise could learn only by
long and careful induction. God has here made known to
us His attributes and character; here He has recorded His
law; here He has written a portion of the history of our
race, as a specimen of His providential dealings with men;
an 1 here He has, more than all, revealed to us a remedial
dijpensation, by which our sins may be forgiven, and we
be raised to higher and more glorious happiness than that
whic'h we have lost. It surely becomes us, then, specially
to study the Bible, not merely as a book of antiquities, o
a choice collection of poetry, or an inexhaustible storehouse
of wisdom; but for the more important purpose of ascertaining the character of God, and our relations to Him, and
of thus cultivating towards Him those feelings of filial and
reverential homage, which are so manifestly our duty, and
which such contemplations are in their nature so adapted to
foster and improve.
4. A devout temper is also cultivated by the exercise of
devotion. The more we exercise the feeling of veneration,




ï~~168

THE CULTIVATION OF

of love, of gratitude, and of submission towards God, the
more profound, and pervading, and intense, and habitual,
will these feelings become. And, unless the feelings themselves be called into exercise, it will be in vain that we arepersuaded that we ought to exercise them. It is one thing
to be an admirer of devotion, and another thing to be really
devout. It becomes us, therefore, to cultivate these feelings,
by actually exercising towards God the very tempers of
mind indicated by our circumstances, and our progressive
knowledge. Thus, submission to His will, thankfulness for
His mercies, trust in His providence, reliance on His power,
and sorrow for our sins, should be, not the occasional exercise, but the habit of our souls.
5. By the constitution of our nature, a most intimate
connection exists between action and motive; between the
performance of an action and the principle from which it
emanates. The one cannot long exist without the other.
True charity cannot long exist in the temper, unless we
perform acts of charity. Meditation upon goodness will
soon become effete, unless it be strengthened by good works.
So the temper of devotion will be useless; nay, the profession of it must, of necessity, be hypocritical, unless it produce
obedience to God. By this alone is its existence known;
by this alone can it be successfully cultivated. The more
perfectly our wills are subjected to the will of God, and our
whole course of conduct regulated by His commands, the
more ardent will be our devotion, and the more filial the
temper from which our actions proceed.
6. It is scarcely necessary to observe, that as penitence
is a feeling resulting from a conviction of violated obligation,
it is to be cultivated, not merely by considering the character
of God, but also our conduct towards Him. The contrast
between His goodness and compassion, and our ingratitude
and rebellion, is specially adapted to fill us with humility
and self-abasement, and also with sorrow for all our past
transgressions. Thus said the prophet: "Wo is me, for I
am a man of unclean lips; and I dwell in the midst of a
people of unclean lips; for mine eyes have seen the King,
the Lord of Hosts!"
Lastly. It is surely unnecessary to remark, that such a




ï~~A DEVOTIONAL SPIRIT.           I16)
ife as this is alone suited to the character of man. If God
nave made us capable of deriving our highest happiness
from Him, and have so constituted the universe around us as
perpetually to lead us to this source of happiness, the most
unreasonable, ungrateful, and degrading, not to say the most
guilty, course of conduct which we can pursue, must be, to
neglect and abuse this, the most noble part of our constitution, and to use the knowledge of the world around us for
every other purpose than that for which it was created.
Let every frivolous, thoughtless human being reflect what
must be his condition, when he, whose whole thoughts are
limited by created things, shall stand in the presence of
Him, "before whose face the heavens and the earth shai
aee away, and there be no place left for them!"
15




ï~~A6O

CHAPTER TH. 4D.
OF PRAYER.
IN the present chapter, we shall treat of the nature the
telligation, and the utility, of prayer.
I. The nature of prayer.
Prayer is the direct intercourse of the spirit of man with the
spiritual and unseen Creator. " God is a spirit, and those
that worship Him, must worship Him in spirit and in truth."
It consists in the expression of our adoration, the acknowledgment of our obligations, the offering up of our
thanksgivings, the confession of our sins, and in supplication for the favors, as well temporal as spiritual, which we
need; being always accompanied with a suitable temper
of mind.
This temper of mind presupposes,1. A solemn conviction of the character and attributes
of God, and of the relations which He sustains to us.
2. A conviction of the relations which we sustain to
Him, and of our obligations to Him.
3. An affecting view of our sinfulness, helplessness, and
misery.
4. Sincere gratitude for all the favors which we have
received.
5. A fixed and undissembled resolution to obey the
commands of God in future.
6. Unreserved submission to all His will.
7. Unshaken confidence in His veracity.
8. Importunate desires that our petitions, specially ftoi
bpiritual blessings, should be granted.
9. A soul at peace with all mankind.
ILtstrations of all these dispositions, from the prayers
recorded in the Holy Scriptures, as well as the precepts by
which they are enforced, might be easily adduced. I pre



ï~~OF PR &YER.

171

sume, however, they are unnecessary. I will only remark,
that it is not asserted that all these dispositions are always
to be in exercise at the same time, but only such of them
as specially belong to the nature of our supplications.
Inasmuch as we are dependent on God, not only for
all the blessings which we derive directly firom His hands,
out also for all those which arise from our relations to each
other, it is manifestly proper that we confess our sins, and
supplicate His favor, not only as individuals, but as
societies. Hence, prayer may be divided into individual,
domestic and social.
Individual Prayer.  As the design of this institution is,
to bring us, as individuals, into direct communion with
God, to confess our personal infirmities, and to cultivate
personal piety, it should be strictly in private. We are
commanded to pray to our Father in secret. It should,
moreover, be solemn, unreserved, and, in general, accompanied with the reading of the Holy Scriptures. As,
moreover, this direct communion with the unseen Creator,
is intended to be the great antagonist force to the constant pressure of the things seen and temporal, it should be
habitual and frequent.
Domestic Prayer. As the relation sustained by parents
and children, is the source of many and peculiar blessings;
as the relation involves peculiar responsibilities, in the fulfilment of which we all need special guidance and direction,
there is a peculiar propriety in the acknowledgment of God,
in connection with this relation. The importance of this
duty is specially urged upon us, by its effect upon the
young. It associates with religion all the recollections of
childhood, and all the sympathies of home. It gives to
parental advice the sanction of religion, and, in after life
recalls the mind to a coniction of duty to God, with all
the motives drawn from a father's care and a mother's
tenderness.
Social Prayer. Inasmuch as all our social and civil
blessings are the gift of God, it is meet mtat we should, as
societies, meet to acknowledge them. This is one of the
most important duties of the Sabbath day. It will, there



ï~~172

OF PRAYER.

fore, be mor  fully treated of, under that branch of the
subject.
Since prayer is the offering up of our desires, &c., with
a suitable temper of heart, it is manifest that the question
wnether a form of prayer, or extemporary prayer, should
be used, is merely one of expediency, and has no connection with morals. We are under obligation to use that
which is of the greatest spiritual benefit to the individual.
Private prayer should, however, I think, be expressed in
the words of the supplicant himself.
II. The duty of prayer.
The duty of prayer may be seen from the conditions of
our being, and from the Holy Scriptures.
I. The conditions of our being.
1. We are utterly powerless, ignorant of the future,
essentially dependent at the present and for the future, and
are miserably sinful. We need support, direction, happiness, pardon and purification. These can come from no
other being than God, who is under no obligation to confer
them upon us. What can be more manifestly proper, than
that we should supplicate the Father of the universe for
those blessings which are necessary, not only for our happiness, but for our existence, and that we should receive
every favor with a devout acknowledgment of the terms on
which it is bestowed?
2. Inasmuch as we are sinners, and have forfeited the
blessings which we daily receive, what can be more suitable, than that we should humbly thank that Almighty
power, from whom comes such an inexhaustible supply of
goodness, to us so utterly undeserving? and what more
obligatory, than to ask the pardon of our Creator, for those
sins of omission and of commission, with which we are
every hour justly chargeable?
3. Specially is this our duty, when we reflect, that this
very exercise of habitual reliance upon God, is necessary
to our happiness in our present state, and that the temper
which it presupposes, is essential to our progress in virtue.
That such is the dictate of our moral constitution, is
evident from the fact, that all men who have any notion




ï~~OF PRAYER.

173

of a Supreme Being, under any circumstances, acknowledge it as a duty, and, in some form or other, profess to
practise it. And besides this, all men, even the most
abandoned and profligate, when in l'danger, pray most
eagerly. This has been the case with men who, in health
and safety, scoff at religion, and ridicule the idea of moral
obligation. But it is evident, that it can be neither more
proper nor more suitable to pray when we are in danger,
t1 an to pray at any other time; for our relations to God
ar always the same, and we are always essentially dependent upon him for every thing, both temporal and
spiritual, that we enjoy at the present, or hope for in the
future. It is surely as proper to thank God for those
mercies which we receive every moment, as to deprecate
those judgments by which we are occasionally alarmed.
II. The duty of prayer, as taught in the Scriptures.
The Scriptures treat of prayer, as a duty arising so immediately out of our relations to God, and our obligations
to Him, as scarcely to need a positive precept. Every
disposition of heart which we are commanded to exercise
towards God, presupposes it. Hence, it is generally referred to, incidentally, as one of which the obligation is
already taken for granted. Precepts, however, are not
wanting, in respect to it. I here only speak of the general
tendency of the Scripture instructions.
1. It is expressly commanded: "Pray without ceasing."
" In every thing giving thanks, for this is the will of God,
in Christ Jesus, concerning you."  "In all things, by
prayer and supplication, let your request be made known
unto God." Phil. iv, 6. "I exhort that supplications
and prayers, intercessions and giving of thanks, be made
for all men; for this is good and acceptable in the sight of
God, our Savior." 1 Tim. ii, 1--3.
2. God declares it to be a principal condition on which
He will bestow favors. "If any man lack wrsdom, let him
ask of God, who giveth to all men liberally, and upbraideth
not, and it shall be given him." James i, 5. " Ask, and
it shall be given you; seek, and ye shall find; knock, and
it shall be opened upto you: for every one that asKeth
receiveth, and he that seeketh findeth, and to him that
15 *




ï~~174

OF PRAYER.

knocketh it sna'l be opened. Or, what man is there of
you, whom, if his son ask bread, will he give him a stone.
or, if he ask a fish, will he give him a serpent? If ye,
then, being evil, know how to give good gifts to your chil
dren, how much more shall your Father, that is in heaven
give good things to them that askc him!" Matthew vii,
7-11. Now, it is too obvious to need a remark, that
God would not have connected so important consequences
with prayer, unless He meant to inculcate it as a universal
duty.
3. The Scriptures raake the habit of prayer the mark
of distinction between the righteous and the wicked; between the enemies and the friends of God. Thus, the
wicked say: "What is the Almighty, that we should serve
Him? or, what profit shall we have, if we call upon Him?"
Job xxi, 15. "The wicked, through the pride of his
countenance, will not seek after God. God is not in all
his thoughts." Psalms x, 4. On the contrary, righteous
persons, those whom God approves, are specially designated
as those who call upon Him.
4. Examples of the prayers of good men, are, in the
Scriptures, very abundant. In fact, a large portion of the
Bible is made up of the prayers and praises of those whom
God has held up for our imitation. To transcribe these,
would be to transcribe a large portion of the sacred books.
5. The Bible abounds with examples recorded by God,
of special answers to prayer of every kind that can be
conceived. There are examples of the successful prayer
of individuals for temporal and for spiritual blessings, both
for themselves and for others; of individual prayers for
nations, and of nations for themselves; of individuals for
societies, and of societies for individuals; and, indeed, of
men in all the circumstances in which they can be placed,
for every blessing, and under every variety of relation.
Now, what God has, at so great length, and in so great a
variety of ways, encouraged us to do, must be not only a
privilege, but a duty.
In a word, the Bible teaches us, on this subject, that our
relation to God is infinitely nearer, and more universal, than
that in which we can possibly stand to any other being




ï~~OF PRAYER.

175

He allows us, with the simplic'ty and   conflience o
children, to unbosom all our cares, to make known aii our
wants, and express all our thanks, with unreserved freedom
to Him. He assures us, that this exercise, and the temper
from which it springs, and which it cultivates, is most acceptable to Him. And, having thus condescended to
humble Himself to our situation, He holds us as most
ungrateful, proud, insolent and sinful, if we venture to
undertake any bus'ness, or receive any favor, without holding direct and child-like communion with Him.
6. Under the remedial dispensation, a special encouragement is given to prayer. We are there taught, that though
we are unworthy of the blessings which we need, yet
we may ask and receive, for the sake of the Mediator.
"Whatsoever ye shall ask the Father in my name, He
will give it you." The death of Christ is also held forth
as our special ground of confidence in prayer: " He that
spared not His own Son, but gave Him up for us all, how
shall He not, with Him, freely give us all things?" And.
yet more, we are informed, that it is the special office of
the exalted Mediator, to intercede for us before the throne
of God. Greater encouragements than these, to prayer,
could not possibly be conceived. "
III. The utility of prayer.
This may be shown,1. From the nature and attributes of God: He would
not require any thing of us which was not for our good.
2. The utility of prayer is seen from the tempers of
mind which it presupposes.   We have already shown
what these tempers of mind are. Now, it must be evident
to every one, that the habitual exercise of these dispositions
must be, in the nature of the case, in the highest degree.
beneficial to such creatures as we.
3. The utility of prayer is also evident from its connec
tion with our redeption of favors from God.
1. In the government of this world, God establishes
such connections between cause and effect, or a:itecedent
and consequent, as he pleases. He has a perfect right to
do so. The fact, that one event is the antecedent of
another, involves not the supposition of any essential pover




ï~~1 6

OF PRAYER.

in the antecedent, but merely the supposition that God has
placed it in that relation to something that is to follow.
2. The bestowment of favors is one event. God has,
a right to ordain whatever antecedent to this event he
clgooses. We are not competent to say, of any event, that
it cannot be the antecedent to the bestowment of favors,
any more than that rain cannot be the antecedent to the
growth of vegetation.
3. Since, then, any event whatever may be the antecedent to any other event whatever, we are, surely, not
competent to say that prayer cannot be the antecedent to
the bestowment of favors, any more than to say this of
any thing else. It is, surely, to say the least of it, as good
as any other antecedent, if God saw fit so to ordain.
4. But, since God is a moral Governor, and must, therefore, delight in and reward virtuous tempers, there is a
manifest moral propriety in his making these tempers the
antecedent to his bestowment of blessings. Nay, we cannot conceive how he would be a righteous moral Governor,
unless he did do so. And, hence, we see, that the supposition that God bestows blessings in answer to prayer,
which he would not bestow on any other condition, is not
only not at variance with any of his natural attributes, but
that it is even demanded by his moral attributes.
5. But, inasmuch as God has revealed to us the fact,
that this is the condition on which he bestows the most
valuable of his gifts, and as he has bound himself, by his
promise, to reward abundantly all who call upon him, the
utility of prayer, to creatures situated as we are, is as manifest as our necessities are urgent, both for time and for
eternity.
4. And, finally, there can be no clearer evidence of
the goodness of God, than just such a constitution as this.
God promises favors in answer to prayer; but prayer, as
we have seen, is one of the most efficient means of promoting our moral perfection; that is, our highest happiness; that is to say, God promises us favors, on conditions,
which, in themselves, involve the greatest blessings which
we could possibly  desire.  Bishop Wilson   beautifully
mernarks, "How good is God, w ho will not only give us




ï~~OF PRAYER.

177

what we pray for, but will reward us for going to him, and
laying our wants before him!"
That a man will, however, receive every thing he asks
for, and just as he asks for it, is by no means asserted, in
an unlimited sense; but only that which he prays for, in a
strict sense. True prayer is the offering up of our desires,
in entire subjection to the will of God; that is, desiring
that he will do what we ask, if He, in His infinite wisdom
and goodness, sees that it will be best. Now, if we ask
thus, our prayer will be granted, for thus He has promised
to do for us. Hence, our prayers respecting temporal
blessings, are answered only contingently; that is, under
this condition; but our prayers respecting spiritual blessings, are answered absolutely; for God has positively
p:omised to give His Holy Spirit to them that ask Him.
If God have allowed us thus to hold the most intimate
and unreserved communion with Him; and if He have
promised, on this condition, to support us by His power,
to teach us by His wisdom, to purify us by His Spirit, and
to work in us all those tempers which He sees will best prepare us for the highest state of future felicity, what can be
more ennobling and more lovely than a prayerful life? and
what more ungrateful and sinful, than a life of thoughtless
irreverence and impiety? Is not the single fact, of living
without habitual prayer, a conclusive evidence that we
have not the love of God in us; that we are living in habitual violation of every obligation that binds us to our Maker;
and that we are, therefore, under the solemn condemnation
of His most holy law?




ï~~178

CHAPTER FOURTH
THE OBSERVANCE 3F THE SABBATH.
Tis is the second special means appointed by on.
Creator, for the purpose of cultivating in us suitable moral
dispositions. We shall treat, first, of the original institution of the Sabbath; secondly, of the Mosaic Sabbath;
thirdly, of the Christian Sabbath.
Although the Sabbath is a positive institution, and,
therefore, the proof of its obligation is to be sought for
entirely from revelation, yet there are indications, in the
present constitution, that peiods of rest are necessary, both
for man and for beast. The recurrence of night, and the
necessity of repose, show  that the principle of rest
enters into the present system, as much as that of labor.
And, besides, it is found that animals which are allowed one
day in seven for rest, live longer, and enjoy better health,
than those which are worked without intermission. The
same may, to a considerable degree, be said of man. The
late Mr. Wilberforce attributed his length of life, and the
superiority of health which he enjoyed over his political contemporaries, mainly to his resolute and invariable observance of the Sabbath day; a duty which, unfortunately, they
too frequently neglected.
1 shall not go into the argument on this subject in detail,
as the limits of the present work will not admit of it, but
shall merely give what seem to me the results. To those
who wish to examine the question of the obligation of the
Sabbath at large, I would recommend the valuable treatise
of Mr. J. J. Gurney, on the history, authority, and use of
the Sabbath; from which much of the present article is
merely an abridgment.
I. Of the original institu Yon of the Sabbath.
First. The Divine authority for the institution of the Sab



ï~~THE OBSERVANCE OF THE SABBATH.

179

bath, is found in Genesis ii, 1-3. " Thus, the heavens
and the earth were finished, and all the hosts of them; and
on the seventh day, God ended his work which He had
made, and He rested on the seventh day from all his works
which He had made. And God blessed the seventh day,
and sanctified it; because that in it He had rested from all
his work which God had created and made."
Now, concerning this passage, we remark,1. It was given to our first parents; that is, to the whole
human race.
2. God blessed it; that is, bestowed upon it a peculiar
blessing, or made it a source of peculiar blessings to man.
Such, surely, must be that day, which is given in order to
cultivate in ourselves moral excellence, and prepare us for
the happiness of heaven. He sanctified it; that is. set it
apart from a common to a sacred and religious use.
3. The reason is a general one: God rested. This has
no reference to any peculiar people, but seems in the light
of an example from God for all the human race.
4. The nature of the ordinance is general. God sane
tified it; that is, the day  The act refers not to any pal
ticular people, but to the day itself.
5. The object to be accomplished is general, and can
apply to no one people more than to another. If it be
rest, all men equally need it. If it be moral cultivation,
surely no people has ever existed who did not require such
a means to render them better.
Secondly. There are indications that the hebdomadal
division of time was observed by the patriarchs before the
time of Moses, and that the Sabbath was regarded as the
day for religious worship.
1. Genesis iv, 3. "And in process of time, it came to
pass that Cain brought of the fruit of the ground an offhring to the Lord."  The words rendered "in process of
time," literally signify " at the end of days;" or, "at tile
cutting off of days;" that is, as I think probable, at the
close, as we should say, of a section of days; a very natoral expression for the end of a week. If this be the
meaning, it would seem to refer to the division of time jusi




ï~~180      THE OBSERVANCE OF THE SABBATH.
previously mentioned, and also to the use of this day foi
religious worship.
2. Noah seems to have observed the same hebdomada
division of time. The command to enter into the ark, was
given seven days before the flood came. Genesis 'vii,
4-10. So, he allowed seven days to elapse between the
times of sending forth the dove. Genesis viii, 10-12.
Now, I think that these intimations show that this division
of time was observed according to the original command;
and we may well suppose that with it was connected the
special time for religious worship. Thus, also, Joseph
devoted seven days, or a whole week, to the mourning for
his father.
3. The next mention of the Sabbath, is shortly after the
Israelites had left Egypt, and were fed with manna min the
wilderness. Exodus xvi, 22--30. As the passage is of
considerable length, I need not quote it. I would, however, remark,1. It occurs before the giving of the law; and, therefore
the obligatoriness of the Sabbath is hereby acknowledged
irrespective of the Mosaic law.
2. When first alluded to, it is spoken of as a thing
known.    God, first, without referring to the Sabbath,
informs Moses that on the sixth day, the Israelites should
gather twice as much manna as on any other day. From
this, it seems that the division of time by weeks was known,
and that it was taken for granted, that they would know
the reason for the making of this distinction. In the whole
of the narration, there is no precept given for the keeping
of the day; but they are reproved for not suitably keeping
it, as though it were an institution with which they ought to
have been familiar.
Besides these, there are many indications in the earliest
classics, that the Greeks and Romans observed the hebdomadal division of time; and, also, that the seventh day
was considered peculiarly sacred. This seems to have
been the case in the time of Hesiod. The same is supposed to have been the fact in regard to the northern nations of Europe, from which w are immediately descended.




ï~~THE OBSERVANCE OF THE SABBATH.

181

The inference which seems naturally to arise from these
facts, is, that this institution was originally observed by the
whole human race; and that it was transmitted, with
different degrees of care, by different nations, until the
period of the commencement of our various historical
records.
From the above facts, I think we are warranted in the
tonclusion, that the seventh day, or perhaps, generally, the
seventh part of time, was originally set apart for a religious
purpose by our Creator, for the whole human race; that it
was so observed by the Hebrews, previously to the giving
of the law; and that, probably, the observance was, in the
infancy of our race, universal.
II. The Mosaic Sabbath.
The precept for the observance of the Sabbath, at the
giving of the law, is in these words: "Remember the
Sabbath day, to keep it holy. Six days shalt thou labor,
and do all thy work; but the seventh is the Sabbath of the
Lord thy God; in it, thou shalt not do any work, thou,
nor thy son, nor thy daughter, nor thy man-servant, nor
thy maid-servant, nor thy cattle, nor thy stranger that is
within thy gates; for in six days the Lord made heaven
and earth, the sea, and all that in them is, and rested the
seventh day. Wherefore the Lord blessed the seventh
day, and hallowed it." Exodus xx, 11.
Now, concerning this precept, there are several things
worthy of remark:4
1. It is found in the law of the ten commandments, which
is always referred to in the Scriptures, as containing the
sum of the moral precepts of God to man. Our Savior and
the Apostles, who made the most decided distinction between
moral and ceremonial observances, never allude to the law
of the ten commandments in any other manner than as o01
permanent and universal obligation. Npw, I know of no
reason which can be assigned, why this precept should be
detached from all the rest, and considered as ceremonial,
when the whole of these, taken together, are allowed, by
universal consent, to have been quoted as moral precepts
by Christ and his Apostles. Besides, our Savior expressly
declares, that "the SabbatA was made for MAN," that is
16




ï~~182      THE OBSERVANCE OF PHE SABBATH.
for man in general, for the whole human race; and colse
quently, that it is binding upon the whole race, tnat is, that
It is a precept of universd, obligation.
2. The reasons given for observing it, are the same as
those given at the time of its first institution. Inasmuch as
these reasons are, in their nature, general, we should
naturally conclude that the obligation which it imposes, is
universal.
3. This commandment is frequently referred to by the
prophets, as one of high moral obligation; the most solemn
threatenings are uttered against those who profane it; and
the greatest rewards promised to those who keep it. See
Isatah lvi, 2-6; Jeremiah xvii, 24, 25;.Nehemiah xiii
15-21.
4. In addition to rest from labor, the meeting together
for worship, and the reading of the Scriptures, was made a
part of the duty of the Sabbath day. Six days shall work
be done; but the seventh is the Sabbath of rest; a holy
convocation. Leviticus xxiii, 3. Thus, also, Moses, of
old time,- hath, in every city, them that preach him, being
read in the synagogues every Sabbath day. Acts xv, 21.
Besides this reenaction of the Sabbath day, in the Mosaic
law, there were special additions made to its observance,
which belong to the Jews alone, and which were a part ol
their civil or ceremonial law. With this view, other reasons were given for observing it, and other rites were added.
Thus, for instance,1. It was intended to distinguish them from the sur
rounding idolatrous nations. Exodus xxxi, 12-17.
2. It was a memorial of their deliverance from Egypt.
Deuteronomy v, 15.
3. And, with these views, the prinuiple of devoting the
seventh part of time, was extended also to years; every
seventh year being a year of rest.
4. The violation of the Sabbath was punished with deat,
by the civil magistrate.
Now, whatever is in its nature local, and designed for a
particular purpose, ceases, whenever that purpose is accompiished. Hence, these civil and ceremonial observances
cease, with the termination of the Jewish polity; while that




ï~~THE OBSERV'ANCE OF THE SABBATH.

1,63

which is moral and universal, that which "was made tbr
man" and not specially for the Jews, remains as though
the ceremonial observances had never existed. I think
that this view of the subject is also confirmed by the eximple and precept of Christ, who gave directions concernng the manner in which the Sabbath was to be kept, an
also was himself accustomed to observe the day for the
purposes of religious worship. "As his custom was, he
went into the synagogue on the Sabbath day, and stood up
to read."  Luke iv, 16. See also Matthew xii, 2-13.
When our Lord, also, in teaching the mode in which the
Sabbath is to be kept, specifies what things it is lawful to
do on the Sabbath day, he clearly proceeds upon the principle that it was lawful to do things on other days, which it
would not be lawful to do on the Sabbath day.
III. The Christian Sabbath.
We shall consider here, 1st, The day on which the
Christian Sabbath is to be kept; 2d. The manner in
which it is to be kept.
FIRST. The day on which the Christian Sabbath is to
be kept.
First. There are indications, from the facts which transired on that day, that it was to be specially honored under
the new dispensation.
1. Our Savior arose on that day from the dead, having
accomplished the work of man's redemption.
2. On this day he appeared to his Apostles, a week from
his resurrection, at which time he had his conversation with
Thomas.
3. On this day, also, occurred the feast of Pentecost, when
the Spirit was in so remarkable a manner poured oat, and
when the new dispensation emphatically commenced.
Second. That the primitive Christians, in the days of the
Apostles, were accustomed to observe this day, as their day
of weekly worship, is evident from several passages in the
New Testament, and also from the earliest ecclesiastical
records.
1. That the early disciples, in all places, were accustomed to meet statedly, to worship and celebrate thei
Lord's Supper, is evident from 1 Corinthians xi, 1, 14, 20,




ï~~|184     THE OBSERVANCE OF THE SABBATH
23, 40. And that these meetings were on the first day of
the week, may be gathered from 1 Corinthians xvi, 1, 2.
2. That these meetings were held on the first day of the
week, is also further evident from Acts xx, 6-11; where
we are informed, that in Troas the Christians met on the
first day of the week to break bread, (that is, to celebrate
the Lord's Supper,) and to receive religious instruction.
From these passages, we see that this custom had already
become universal, not merely in the neighborhood of Jerusalem, but throughout the regions in which the Christian
religion was promulgated.
3. Again, (Revelations i, 10,) it is observed by John,
"I was in the Spirit on the Lord's day."  From this remark, it is probable that John kept this day with peculiar
solemnity. It is certain that the day had already obtained
a particular name; a name by which it has continued to be
distinguished in every subsequent age.
Besides these allusions to the day from the New Testament, there are various facts, bearing upon the subject, from
aninspired historians.
1. The early fathers frequently refer to this day, as the
day set apart for religious worship; and allude to the difference between keeping this day, and keeping the seventh,
or Jewish Sabbath, specially on the ground of its being the
day of our Savior's resurrection.
2. Pliny, in his letter to Trajan, remarks that the
Christians "were accustomed, on a stated day, to meet before day-light, and to repeat among themselves a hymn to
Christ, as to a God, and to bind themselves, by a sacred
)bligation, not to commit any wickedness, but, on the contrary, to abstain from thefts, robberies and adulteries; also,
not to violate their promise, or deny a pledge; after which,
it was their custom to separate, and meet again at a promiscuous and harmless meal." It is needless here to remark
the exact coincidence between this account from the pen of
i heathen magistrate, with the account given of the keeping
cf the day, in the passages where it is mentioned in the New
Testament.
3. That this stated day was the first day of the week, or
the Lord's day, is evidevnt from another testimony. So well




ï~~THE OBSERVANCE OF THE SABBATH.

1.85

known was the custom of the early Christians on this subjeot, that the ordinary question, put by their persecutors to
the Christian martyrs, was, "Hast thou kept the Lord's
day?"  Dommicum servasti?   To which the usual an
swer was, " I am a Christian: I cannot omit it."  Chris
tianus sum: intermittere non possum.
4 It is, however, manifest, that the Jews, who were
strongly inclined to blend the rites of Moses with the Christian religion, at first kept the seventh day; or, what is very
probable, at first kept both days. The Apostles declared
that the disciples of Jesus were not under obligation to
observe the seventh day. See Colossians ii, 16, 17. Now,
as the observance of the Sabbath is a precept given to the
whole human race; as it is repeated, in the Mosaic law, as
a moral precept; as the authority of this precept is recognized both by the teaching and example of Christ and his
Apostles; as the Apostles teach that the keeping of the
seventh day is not obligatory; and as they did keep the
first day as a day of religious worship; it seems reasonable
to conclude that they intended to teach, that the first day
was that which we are, as Christians, to observe.
5. From these considerations, we feel warranted to conclude that the first day of the week was actually kept by
the inspired Apostles, as the Christian Sabbath. Their
example is sufficient to teach us that the keeping of this
day is acceptable to God; and we are, on this ground, at
liberty to keep it as the Sabbath. If, however, any other
person be dissatisfied with these reasons, and feel under
obligation to observe the seventh day, I see no precept in
the word of God to forbid him.
6. If, however, as seems to me to be the case, both days
are allowable; that is, if I have sufficient reason to believe
that either is acceptable to God; but if, by observing the
first day, I can enjoy more perfect leisure, and suffer less
interruption, and thus better accomplish the object of the
day; and if, besides, I have the example of inspired
Apostles in favor of this observance; I should decidedly
prefer to observe the first day. Nay, I should consider the
choice of that day as obligatory. For, if I am allowed to
devote either day to the worship of God, it is surely obhlga16*




ï~~186

THE OBSERVANCE OF THE SABBATIH

tory on me to worship God on that day on which I cax
best accomplish the very object for which the day was set
apart.
If it be asked, when this day is to begin, I answer, that
I presume we are at liberty to commence this day at the
same time that we commence other days; for the obvious
reason, that thus we can generally enjoy the quiet of the
Sabbath with less interruption.
SECONDLY. Of the manner in which the Christian Sab.
bath is to be observed.
The design for which the Sabbath was instituted, I suppose to be, to set apart a portion of our time for the uninterrupted worship of God, and the preparation of our souls
for eternity; and, also, to secure to man and beast one day
in seven, as a season of rest from labor.
Hence, the law of the Sabbath forbids,1. All labor of body or mind, of which the immediate
object is not the worship of God, or our own religious improvement. The only exceptions to this rule, are works of
necessity or of mercy. The necessity, however, must be
one which is imposed by the providence of God, and nol
by our own will. Thus, a ship, when on a voyage, may
sail on the Sabbath, as well as on any other day, without
violating the rule. The rule, however, would be violated
by commencing the voyage on the Sabbath, because here a
choice of days is in the power of the master.
2. The pursuit of pleasure, or of any animal, or merely
intellectual gratification. Hence, the indulgence of out
appetites in such manner as to prevent us from free and
buoyant spiritual contemplation, riding or journeying fot
amusement, the merely social pleasure of visiting, the
reading of books designed for the gratification of the taste
or of t~e imagination, are all, by the principles of the command, forbidden.
3. The labor of those committed to our charge.
1. The labor of servants. Their souls are of as much
value 'as our own, and they need the benefit of this law as
much as ourselves. Besides, if this portion of their time
be claimed by ourCreator, we have no right to purchase it,
ior have they P right to negotiate it away. Works of




ï~~THE OBSLRVANCE OF THE SABBATH.

187

necessity must, of course, be performed; but these should
be restricted within the limits prescribed by a conscientious
regard to the object and design of the day.
2. Brutes are, by the fourth commandment, included in
the law which ordains rest to all the animate creation.
They need the repose which it grants, and they are entitled to their portion of it.
On the contrary, th3 law of the Sabbath enjoins the employment of the day in the more solemn and immediate
duties of religion.
1. Reading the Scriptures, religious meditation, prayer
in private, and also the special instruction in religion of
those committed to our charge. And, hence, it enjoins
such domestic arrangements as are consistent with these
duties.
2. Social worship. Under the Mosaic and Christian
dispensation, this was an important part of the duties of the
day. As the setting apart of a particular day to be universally observed, involves the idea of social as well as personal religion, one of the most obvious duties which it
imposes, isithat of social worship; that is, of meeting together in societies, to return thanks for our social mercies,
to implore the pardon of God for our social sins, and
beseech His favor for those blessings which we need as
societies, no less than as individuals.
The importance of the religious observance of the Sabbath, is seldom sufficiently estimated. Every attentive
observer has remarked, that the violation of this command,
by the young, is one of the most decided marks of incipient
moral degeneracy. Religious restraint is fast losing its
hold upon that young man, who, having been educated in
the fear of God, begins to spend the Sabbath in idleness,
or in amusement. And so, also, of communities. The
desecration of the Sabbath is one of those evident indications of that criminal recklessness, that insane love of
pleasure, and that subjection to the government of appetite
and passion, which forebodes, that the "beginning of the
end " of social happiness, and of true national prosperity,
has art'ved.
Hence, we see how imperative is the duty of parents,




ï~~188      THE OBSERVANCE OF THE SABBATH.
and of legislators, on this subject. The head of eveiy
family is obliged, by the command of God, not only to
honor this day himself, but to use all the means in his
power to secure the observance of it, by all those committed
to his charge. He is, thus, promoting not only his own,
but also his children's happiness; for nothing is a more
sure antagonist force to all the allurements of vice, as
nothing tends more strongly to fix in the minds of the
young a conviction of the existence and attributes of God,
thai. the solemn keeping of this day. And, hence, also,
legislators are false to their trust, who, either by the enactment of laws, or by their example, diminish, in the least
degree, in the minds of a people, the reverence due to that
day which God has set apart for Himself.
The only qt.estion which remains, is the following:
Is it the duty of the civil magistrate to enforce the observance of the Sabbath?
We are inclined to think not, and for the following
reasons:
1. The duty arises solely from our relations to God, and
not from our relations to man. Now, our duties to God
are never to be placed within the control of human legislation.
2. If the civil magistrate has a right to take cognizance
of this duty to God, he has a right to take cognizance of
every other. And, if he have a right to take cognizance
of the duty, he has a right to prescribe in what manner it
shall be discharged; or, if he see fit, to forbid the observance of it altogether. The concession of this right would,
therefore, lead to direct interference with liberty of conscience.
8 The keeping of the Sabbath is a moral duty. Hence,
if it be acceptably observed, it must be a voluntary service.
But the civil magistrate can never do any thing more than
produce obedience to the external precept; which, in the
sight of God, would not be the keeping of the Sabbath at
all. Hence, to allow the civil magistrate to enforce the
observance of the Sabbath, would be to surrender to him
the control over the conscience, without attaining even the
object for which the surrender was made.




ï~~THE OBSERVANCF OF THE SABBATH.        189
4. It is, however, the duty of the civil magistrate, to
protect every individual in the undisturbed right of worshipping God as he pleases. This protection, every individual has a right to claim, and society is under obligation
to extend it. And, also, as this is a leisure day, and is
liable to various abuses, the magistrate has a right to prevent any modes of gratification which would tend to disturb
the peace of society. This right is acknowledged in regulations respecting other days of leisure or rejoicing; and
there can be no reason why it should not be exercised min
respect to the Sabbath.
5. And, lastly, the law of the Sabbath applies equally
to societies, and to individuals. An individual is forbidden
to labor on the Sabbath, or to employ another person to
labor for him. The rule is the same, when applied to any
number of individuals; that is, to a society. Hence, a
society has no right to employ persons to labor for them.
The contract is a violation of the Sabbatical law. It is on
this ground that I consider ithe carrying of the mail on this
day a social violation of the Christian Sabbath.




ï~~190

PART 11.
DU;TIES TO MAll.-RC1PROCITY AND       BENEVOLENCE.
DIVISION I.
THE DUTY OF RECIPROCITY.-GENERAL PRINCIPLE ILLUSTRATED,
AND TIHE DUTIES OF RECIPROCITY CLASSIFIED.
IT has been already observed, that our duties, to both
God and man, are all enforced by the obligation of love to
God. By this we mean, that, in consequence of our moral
constitution, we are under obligation to love our fellow-men,
because they are our fellow-men; and we are also under
obligation to love them, because we have been commanded
to love them by our Father who is in heaven. The nature
of this obligation may be illustrated by a familiar example.
Every child in a family is under obligation to love its
parent. And every child is bound to love its brother, both
because he is its brother, and, also, because this love is a
duty enforced by the relation in which they both stand to
their common parent.
The relation in which men stand to each other, is essentially the relation of equality; not equality of condition,
but equality of right.
Every human being is a distinct and separately accountable individual. To each one, God has given just such
means of happiness, and placed him unde" just such circumstances for improving those means of happiness, as it
has pleased him. To one he has given wealth; to another,
intellect; to another, physical strength; to another, health;
and to all in different degrees. In all these respects, the




ï~~THE DUTY OF RECIPROCITY.

191.

human race presents a scene of the greatest possible diversity. So far as natural advantages are concerned, we can
scarcely find two individuals, who are not created under
circumstances widely dissimilar.
But, viewed in another light, all men are placed under
circumstances of perfet equality. Each separate individual is created with precisely the same right to use the
advantages with which God has endowed him, as every
other individual. This proposition seems to me in its
nature so self-evident, as almost to preclude the possibility
of argument. The only reason that I can conceive, on
which any one could found a plea for inequality of right,
must be inequality of condition. But this can manifestly
create no diversity of right. I may have been endowed
with better eye-sight than my neighbor; but this evidently
gives me no right to put out his eyes, or to interfere with
his right to derive from them whatever of happiness the
Creator has placed within his power. I may have greater
muscular strength than my neighbor; but this gives me no
right to break his arms, or to diminish, in any manner, his
ability to use them for the production of his own happiness.
Besides, this supposition involves direct and manifest contradiction. For the principle asserted is, that superiority
of condition confers superiority of right. But if this be
true, then every kind of superiority of condition must confer
correspondent superiority of right. Superiority in muscular
strength must confer it, as much as superiority of intellect,
or of wealth; and must confer it in the ratio of that superioity. In that case, if A, on the ground of intellectual
superiority, have a right to improve his own means of
happiness, by diminishing those which the Creator has
given to B, B would have the same rignt over A, on the
ground of superiority of muscular strength; while C would
have a correspondent right over them both, on the ground
of superiority of wealth; and so on indefinitely; and these
rights would change every day, according to the relative
situation of the respective parties. That is to say, as right
is, in its nature, exclusive, all the men in the universe have
an exclusive right to the same thing; while the right of
every one absolutely annihilates that of every  other.




ï~~192

THE DUTY OF RECIPROCITY.

What is the meaning of such an assertion, I leave it fo>
others to determine.
But let us look at man in another point of light.
1. We find all men possessed of the same appetites and
passions, that is, of the same desire for external objects,
and the same capacity for receiving happiness from the gratification of these desires. We do not say that all men
possess them all in an equal degree; but only that all men
actually possess them all, and that their happiness depends
upon the gratification of them.
2. These appetites and passions are created, so far as
they themselves are exclusively concerned, without limit.
Gratification generally renders them both more intense and
more numerous. Such is the case with the love of wealth,
the love of power, the love of sensual pleasure, or with
any of the others.
3. These desires may be gratified in such a manner, as
not to interfere with the right which every other man has
over his own means of happiness. Thus, I may gratify
my love of wealth, by industry and frugality, while I conduct myself towards every other man with entire honesty.
I may gratify my love of science, without diminishing, in
any respect, the means of knowledge possessed by another.
And, on the other hand, I am created with the physical power
to gratify my desires, in such a manner as to interfere with
the right which another has over the means of happiness
which God has given him. Thus, I have a physical power
to gratify my love of property, by stealing the property of
another, as well as to gratify it by earning property foi
myself. I have, by the gift of speech, the physical power
to ruin the reputation of another, for the sake of gratifying
my own love of approbation. I have the physical power
to murder a man, for the sake of using his body to gratify
my love of anatomical knowledge. And so of a thousand
cases.
4. And, hence, we see that the relation in which human
beings stand to each other, is the following: Every individual is created with a desire to use the means of happiness which God has given him, in such a manner as he
thinks will best promote that happiness; and of this manner




ï~~THE DUTY OF RECIPROCITY.

19-3

a.ie is the sole judge.  Every individual is endow td with
the same desires, which he may gratify in such a manner
as will not interfere with his neighbor's means of happiness.
but each individual has, also, the physical power of so gratifying his desires, as will interfere with the means of happiness which God has granted to his neighbor.
5. From this relation, it is manifest that every man is
under obligation to pursue his own happiness, in such mann er only as will leave his neighbor in the undisturbed exer(ise of that common right which the Creator has equally
conferred upon both, that is, to restrain his physical power
of gratifying his desires within such limits that he shall interfere with the rights of no other being; because in no
other manner can the evident design of the Creator, the
common happiness of all, be promoted.
That this is the law of our being, may be shown from
Aeveral considerations:
1. By violating it, the happiness of the aggressor is not
increased, while that of the sufferer is diminished; while, by
S)beying it, the greatest amount of happiness of which our
condition is susceptible, is secured; because, by obeying it,
every one derives the greatest possible advantage from the
gits bestowed upon him by the Creator.
2. Suppose any other rule of obligation; that is, that a
man is not under obligation to observe, with this exactitude,
the ri;4its oi this neighbor  Where shall the limit be fixed?
If viokltion be allowed iii a small degree, why not in a great
degree  and if he may interfere with one right, why not
with all.  And, as all men come under the same law, this
principle would lead to the same absurdity as that of which
we have before spoken; that is, it would abolish the very
idea of right; and, as every one has an equal liberty of violation, would surrender the whole race to the dominion of
unrestrained desire.
3. If it be said that one class of men is not under the obligation to observe this rulein its conduct towards another
class of men, then it will be necessary to show that the
second class are not men, that is, human beings; for these
principles apply to men, as men; and the simple fact. that
a being is a man, places him within the reach of these obli17




ï~~194

THE DUTY OF RECIPROCITY.

gations, and of their protection. Nay, more, suppose the
inferior class of beings were not truly men; if they were intelligent moral agents, I suppose that we should be unlei
the same obligation to conduct ourselves towards tnem uponr
the principle of reciprocity. I see no reason why an angel
would have a right, by virtue of his superior nature, to
interfere with the means of happiness which God has conferred upon man. By parity of reasoning, therefore, superiority of rank would give to man no such power over an
inferior species of moral and intelligent beings.
And, lastly, if it be true that the Creator has given to
every separate individual, control over those means of happiness which He has bestowed upon him, then the simple
question is, Which is of the highest authority, this grant of
the Creator, or the desires and passions of the creature? for
these are really the notions which are brought into collision.
That is to say, ought the grant of God, and the will of
God, to limit my desires; or ought my desires to vitiate the
grant, and set at defiance the will of God? On this question, a moral and intelligent creature can entertain but one
opinion.
Secondly. Let us examine the teaching of the Holy
Scriptures on this subject.
The precept in the Bible is in these words: "Thou shalt
love thy neighbor as thyself."
Two questions are here to be considered. First, To whom
does this command apply; or, in other words, Who is my
neighbor? and, secondly, What is implied in the precept?
1. The first of these questions is answered by our Savioi
himself, in the parable of the good Samaritan. Luke x,
25--37. He there teaches us, that we are to consider as
our neighbor, not our kinsman, or our fellow-citizen, or those
to whom we are bound by the reception of previous kindness, but the stranger, the alien, the hereditary national
enemy; that is, man, as man; any human being to whom
we may in any manner do good. Every man is our neiglbor, and, therefore, we are under obligat on to love every
man as ourselves.
2. What is the import of the commanc to ove such a one
as ourselves?




ï~~THE DUTY OF RECIPROCITY.

195

The very lowest meaning that we can assign to this
precept, is as follows. I have already stated that God ha%
bestowed upon every man such means of happiness, as, in
his own sovereign pleasure, he saw fit; and that he has
given to every man an equal right to use those means of
happiness as each one supposes will best promote his own
well-being.  Besides this, every one has an instinctive
desire thus to use them. He cannot be happy unless this
desire be gratified, and he is painfully conscious of injury, if
this right be interfered with. In this manner, he loves
himself. Now, in the same manner he is commanded to
love his neighbor. That is, he is, by this precept, obliged
to have the same desire that his neighbor should enjoy,
unmolested, the control over whatever God has bestowed
upon him, as he has to enjoy, unmolested, the same control
himself; and to feel the same consciousness of injury when
another man's rights are invaded, as when his own rights
are invaded. With these sentiments, he would be just as
unwilling to violate the rights of another, as he would be to
suffer a violation of his own. That this view of the subject exhausts the command, we by no means assert; but
we think it evident that the language is capable of a no loss
comprehensive meaning.
The same precept is expressed in other places, under
another form of language: "All things whatsoever ye
would that men should do unto you, do ye even so unto
them; for this is the law and the prophets."  Matthew
vii, 12.
The words here, as in the former case, are used to denote a principle of universal obligation: "All things what
soever ye would that men should do unto you, do ye even
so unto them."
The precept itself teaches us to estimate the rights of
others by the consciousness of individual right in our own
bosoms. Would we wish to know how delicate a regard
we are bound to entertain towards the control which God
has given to others over the means of happiness which He
has granted to them, let us decide the question by asking
how tender and delicate is the regard which we would wish




ï~~196

THE DUTY OF RECIPROCITY.

them to entertain towards us under similar crcumstances.
The decision of the one question, will always  e the decision of the other. And this precept goes a step farther.
It renders it obligatory on every man to compnence such a
course of conduct, irrespectively of whatever may be the
conduct of others to himself. It forbids us to demand
more than the law of reciprocity allows; it commands us
always to render it; and, still more, if we complain to
another of his violation of the law, it renders it imperative
on us, while we urge upon him a change of conduct, to
commence by setting him the example. And it really, if
carried out to the utmost, would preclude our claim upon
him, until we had ourselves first manifested towards him
the very disposition which we demand towards ourselves.
The moral beauty of this precept will be at once seen by
any one who will take the trouble, honestly, to generalize
it. He will immediately perceive that it would always
avert injury at the very outset; and, by rendering both
parties more virtuous, would tend directly to banish injury,
and violence, and wrong, from the earth.
Thirdly. This law of universal reciprocity applies with
the same force to communities as to individuals.
Communities are composed of individuals, and can have,
in respect to each other, no other rights than those of the
individuals who constitute them. If it be wrong for one man
to injure another man, it must be equally wrong for two
men to injure two other men; and so of any other number.
And, moreover, the grant of the Creator is in both cases
under the same circumstances. God has bestowed upon
nations physical and intellectual advantages, in every pos
sible degree of diversity. But He has granted to them all
an equal right to use those advantages in such manner as
each one may suppose will best conduce to the promotion
of his own happiness.
Hence it will follow,1. That the precept applies as universally to nations as
to individuals. Whenever societies of men treat with each
9ther; whether powerful with weak, or polite with rude,
civilized with savage, or intelligent with ignorant; whehei




ï~~THE DUTY OF RECIPROCITY.

197

friends with friends, or enemies with enemies; all are bound.
by the law of reciprocity, to love each other as themselves,
and to do unto others, in all things, whatsoever they would
desire others to do unto them.
2. And hence, also, the precept itself is as obligatory
upon nations as upon individuals. Every nation is bound
to exhibit as sensitive a regard for the preservation inviolate
of the rights of another nation, as it exhibits for the preservation inviolate of its own rights.  And still more, every
nation is under the same obligation as every individual, to
measure the respect and moderation which it displays to
others, by the respect and moderation which it demands for
itself; and is also, if it complain of violation of right, to set
the first example of entire and perfect reciprocity and
fidelity. Were this course pursued by individuals and
nations, the causes of collision would manifestly cease and
the appeal to arms would soon be remembered only as one
of the strange infatuations of by-gone, barbarous and blood
thirsty ages. Chicanery, and intrigue, and overreachng,
are as wicked and as disgraceful in the intercourse of
nations and societies, as in that of individuals; and the tool
of a nation or of a party, is as truly contemptible as the
tool of an individual. The only distinction which I perceive, is, that, in the one case, the instrument of dishonesty
is ashamed of his act, and dare not wear the badge of his
infamy; while, in the other case, even the ambiguous
v:rtue of shame has been lost, and the man ghries in the
brand which marks him for a villain.

17*




ï~~198

THE DUTY OF RECIPROCITY

CLASSIFICATION OF THE DUTIES ARISING FROM THE LAW O1
RECIPROCITY.
The duties of reciprocity may be divided into three
classes:
Class 1. DUTILS TO MEN, AS MEN.
Class 2. DUTIES ARISING FROM THE CONSTITUTION OF
THE SEXES.
Class 3. DUTIES ARISING FROM THE CONSTITUTION OF
CIVIL SOCIETY.
Class 1. DUTIES TO MEN, AS MEN.
This includes Justice and Veracity.
I. Justice, as it regards, 1. Liberty.
2. Property.
3. Character.
4. Reputation.
II. Veracity. 1. Of the past and present.
2. Of the future.
Class 2. DUTIES ARISING FROM THE CONSTITUTION OF
THE SEXES.
Including, 1. General duty of chastity.
2. The law of marriage.
3. The duties and rights of parents.
4. The duties and rights of children.
Class 3. DUTIES ARISING FROM TIHE CONSTITUTION OF
CIVIL SOCIETY.
1. The nature of civil society.
2. The mode in which the authority of civil society is
maintained.
3. Of forms of government.
4. Duties of magistrates.
5. Duties of citizens.




ï~~199

CLASS FIRST.
JUSTICE AND VERACITY.
JUSTICE.
Justice, when used in a judicial sense, signifies that temper of mind which disposes a man to administer rewards and
punishments according to the character and actions of the
ooject.
It is also used to designate the act by which this administration is effected. Thus, we speak of a judge, who
administers justice.
In the present case, however, it is used in a more extensive signification. It is here intended to designate that
temper of mind which disposes us to leave every other
being in the unmolested enjoyment of those means of
happiness bestowed upon him by his Creator. It is, also,
frequently used for the exhibition of this conduct in outward act. Thus, when a man manifests a proper respect
for the rights of others, we say, he acts justly; when he,
in any manner, violates these rights, we say, he acts unjustly.
The most important means of happiness which God has
placed in the power of the individual, are, first. HIS OWN
PERSON; second, PROPERaTY; tmrd, CHARACTER    fourthb,
REPUTATICON.




ï~~200

CHAPTER FIRST,
PERSONAL LIBERTY.
SECTION      I.
OF THE NATURE OF PERSONAL LIBERTY.
EVERY human being is, by his constitution, a separate,
and distinct, and complete system, adapted to all the purposes of self-government, and responsible, separately, to
God, for the manner in which his powers are employed.
Thus, every individual possesses a body, by which he is
connected with the physical universe, and by which that
universe is modified for the supply of his wants; an understanding, by which truth is discovered, and by which means
are adapted to their appropriate ends; passions and desires, by which he is excited to action, and in the gratification of which his happiness consists; conscience, to point
out the limit within which these desires may be rightfilly
gratified; and a will, which determines him to action. The
possession of these is necessary to a human nature, and it
also renders every being so constituted, a distinct and independent individual. He may need society, but every one
needs it equally with every other one; and, hence, all enter
into it upon terms of strict and evident reciprocity. If the
individual use these powers according to the laws imposed
by his Creator, his Creator holds him guiltless. If he use
them in such manner as not to interfere with the use of the
same powers which God has bestowed upon his neighbor,
he is, as it respects his neighbor, whether that neighbor be
an individual or the community, to be held guiltless. So
'ong as he uses them within this limit, he has a right, so far
as his fellow-men are concerned, to use them, in the most.mlimnited sense, suo arbitrio, at his own discretion. His




ï~~NATURE OF PERSONAL LIBERTY.

will is his sufficient and ultimate reason. He need assign
no other reason for his conduct, than his own free choice
WVi:hin this limit, he is still responsible to God; but, within
this limit, he is not responsible to man, nor is man responsible for him.
1. Thus, a man has an entire right t) use his own body
as he will, provided he do not so use it as to interfere with
the rights of his neighbor. He may go where he will,
and stay where he please; he may work, or be idle; he
may pursue one occupation, or another, or no occupation at
all; and it is the concern of no one else, if he leave inviolate the rights of every one else; that is, if he leave
avery one else in the undisturbed enjoyment of those means
of happiness bestowed upon him by the Creator.
It seems almost trifling to argue a point, which is, in its
nature, so evident upon inspection. If, however, any additional proof be required, the following considerations will
readily suggest themselves. It is asserted that every individual has an equal and ultimate right with every other
individual, to the use of his body, his mind, and all the
other means of happiness with which God has endowed
him. But suppose it otherwise.   Suppose that one individual has a right to the body, or mind, or means of
happiness, of another.  That is, suppose that A has a
right to use the body of B according to his, that is, A's, will.
Now, if this be true, it is true universally; hence, A has
the control over the body of B, and B has control over the
body of C,. C of that of D, &c., and Z again over the
body of A; that is, every separate will has the right of control over some other body ot intellect besides its own, and
has no right of control over its own body or intellect.
Whether such is the constitution of human nature, or, if
it be not, whether it would be an improvement upon the
present constitution, may be easily decided.
And, if it be said, that, to control one man's body by
another man's will is impossible, for that every man acts as
he will, since he cannot do any thing unless hlie will do it,
it may be answered, that the term will is used here min a
different sense from that intended in the preceding paragraph. Every one must see, that a mnian, who, out of the




ï~~)2

NATURE OF PERSONAL LIBERTY.

variout s ways of employing his body, set before him by his
Creator, chooses that which he prefers, is in a very different condition from him who is debarred from all choice,
excepting that he may do what his fellow-man appoints,
or else must suffer what his fellow-man chooses to inflict.
Now, the true condition of a human being is that in which
his will is influenced by rw other circumstances than those
which arise from the constitution under which his Creator
has placed him. And he who for his own pleasure places
his fellow-man under any other conditions of existence, is
guilty of the most odious tyranny, and seems to me to
arrogate to himself the authority of the Most High God.
But it may be said that, in this case, the individual may
become chargeable to the community. To this I answer,
not unless the community assume the charge.   If every
man be left to himself, but is obliged to respect the rights of
others; if he do not labor, a remedy is provided in the laws
of the system,-he will very soon starve; and, if he prefer
starvation to labor, he has no one to blame but himself. While
the law of reciprocity frees him from the control of society,
t discharges society from any responsibility for the result of
his actions upon himself. I know that society undertakes
to support the indigent and helpless, and to relieve men in
extreme necessity. This, however, is a conventional arrangement, into which men, who choose, have a right to
enter; and, having Mitered into it, they are bound by its
provisions. If they become responsible for the support of
the individual's life, they have a right over his power of
labor to an extent sufficient to cover that responsibility.
And he who has become a meinber of such a society, has
surrendered voluntarily his control over his body, to this
amount. But as he has done it voluntarily, such a convention proceeds upon the concession, that the original
right vests in the individual.
2. The same remarks apply to the use of the intellect.
If the preceding observations are just, it will follow, that
every man, within the limit before suggested, has a right to
use his intellect as he will. He may investigate whatever
subjects he wil, and in what manner soever he will, and
mnay come to such conclusions as his investigations may




ï~~NATURE OF PERSONAL LIBERTY.

203

teach, ano may publish those conclusions to those who are
willing to sear them, provided he interfere with the happiness of no other human being. The denial of this right,
would lead to the same absurdities as in the former case.
If it be said that the individual may, by so doing, involve himself in error, and thus diminish his own happiness, the answer is at hand, namely, for this the constitution
of things provides its appropriate and adequate punishment.
He who imbibes error, suffers, in his own person, the consequences of error, which are misfortune and loss of
respect. And, besides, as, for his happiness, society is not
in this case responsible: there can be no reason, derived
from the consideration of his happiness, why society should interfere with the free use of this instrument of happiness, which
the Creator has intrusted solely to the individual himself.
But, it may be asked, has not society a right to oblige
men to acquire a certain amount of intellectual cultivation?
I answer, men have a right to form a society upon such
conditions as they please; and, of course, so to form it,
that it shall be necessary, in order to enjoy its privileges,
for the individual to possess a certain amount of knowledge.
Having formed such a society, every one is bound by its
provisions, so long as he remains a member of it; and the
enforcing of its provisions upon the individual, is no more
than obliging him to do what he, for a sufficient consideration, voluntarily contracted to do. And society may rightfully enforce this provision in either of two ways: it may
either withhold from every man who neglects to acquire
this knowledge, the benefits of citizenship; or else it may
grant these benefits to every one, and oblige every one to
possess the assigned amount of knowledge. In this case,
there is no violation of reciprocity; for the same requirements are made of all, and every one receives his full
equivalent, in the results of the same law upon others.
More than this, the individual could not justly require. He
could not justly demand to be admitted to rights which
presuppose certain intellectual attainments, and which can
only be, with safety to others, enjoyed by those who have
made these attainments, unless he be willing to conform to
th, condition necessary to that enjoyment.




ï~~9204

NATURE OF PERSONAL LIBERTY.

3. I have thus far considered man only in his relations to
tae present life. So far as I have gone, I have endeavored
to show that, provided the individual interfere not with the
rights of others, he has a right to use his own body and
mind as he thinks will best promote his own happiness;
that is, as he will. But, if he have this right, within these
limits, to pursue his present happiness, how much more
incontrovertible must be his right to use his body and mind
in such manner, as he supposes will best promote his
eternal happiness! And, besides, if, for the sake of his
own happiness, he have a right to the unmolested enjoyment of whatever God has given him, how much more is
he entitled to the same unmolested enjoyment, for the sake
of obeying God, and fulfilling the highest obligation of
which he is susceptible!
We say, then, that every man, provided he does not interfere with the rights of his neighbor, has a right, so far as
his neighbor is concerned, to worship God, or not to wor
ship him; and to worship him in any manner that he will
and that, for the abuse of this liberty, he is accountable
only to God.
If it be said, that, by so doing, a man may ruin his own
soul, the answer is obvious; for this ruin, the individual
himself, and not society, is responsible. And, moreover,
as religion consists in the temper of heart, which force can
not affect,-and not in external observance, which is all
that force can affect,-no application of force can change
our relations to God, or prevent the ruin in question. All
application of force must then be gratuitous mischief.
To sum up what has been said,-all men are created
with an equal right to employ their faculties, of body or
of mind, in such manner as will promote their own happiness, either here or hereafter; or, which is the same thing,
every man has a right to use his own powers, of body or of
mind, in such manner as he will; provided he do not use
them in such manner as to interfere with the rights of his
neighbor.
The exceptions to this law are easily defined.
1. The first exception is in the case of infancy.
By the law of nature a parent is under obligation to




ï~~NATURE OF PERSONAL LIBERTY.

205

support his child, and is responsible for his actions. Hie
has, therefore, a right tc control the actions of the child, so
long as this responsibility exists. He is under obligation to
render that child a suitable member of the community; and
this obligation he could not discharge, unless the physical
and intellectual liberty of the child were placed within his
power.
2. As the parent has supported the child during infancy,
he has, p:'obably, by the law of nature, a right to his servic es during youth, or for so long a period as may be
sufficient to insure an  adequate remuneration. When,
however, this remuneration is received, the right of the
parent over the child ceases for ever.
3. This right he may, if he see fit, transfer to another, as
in the case of apprenticeship. But he can transfer the right
for no longer time than he holds it. He can, therefore,
negotiate it away for no period beyond that of the child's
minority.
4. A man may transfer his right over his own labor for
a limited time, and for a satisfactory equivalent. But this
transfer proceeds upon the principle that the original right
vests in himself, and it is, therefore, no violation of that right.
He has, however, no right to transfer the services of any
other person except his child; nor of his child, except
under the limitations above specified.
In strict accordance with these remarks, is the memorable
sentence in the commencement of the Declaration of Independence, " We hold these truths to be self-evident: that
all men are created equal; that they are endowed by their
Creator with certain inalienable rights; that among these
are life, liberty, and the pursuit of happiness." That the
equality here spoken of is not of the means of happirness, but
in the right to use them as we will, is too evident to need
dlustration.

18




ï~~206

MODES IN WHICH PER'-NAB

SECTION 11.
MODES IN WHICH PERSONAL LIBERTY MAY  E V OLiTED.
Personal liberty may be violated in two ways: 1. By the
individual; 2. By society.
PART FIRST. Of the violation of personal liberty by the
INIDIVIDUAL. The most common violation of personal liberty,
under this head, is that which exists in the case of Domestic Slavery.
Domestic slavery proceeds upon the principle that the
master has a right to control the actions, physical and intellectual, of the slave, for his own, that is, the master's,
individual benefit; and, of course, that the happiness of the
master, when it comes in competition with the happiness
of the slave, extinguishes in the latter the right to pursue it.
It supposes, at best, that the relation between master and
slave, is not that which exists between man and man, but
is a modification, at least, of that which exists between
man and the brutes.
Now, this manifestly supposes that the two classes of
beings are created with dissimilar rights: that the master
possesses rights which have never been conceded by the
slave; and that the slave has no rights at all over the means
of happiness which God has given him, whenever these
means of happiness can be rendered available to the service
of the master. It supposes that the Creator intended one
human being to govern the physical, intellectual and moral
actions of as many other human beings as by purchase he
can bring within his physical power; and that one human
being may thus acquire a right to sacrifice the happiness of
any number of other human beings, for the purpose of promoting his own.
Slavery thus violates the personal liberty of man as a
physical, intellectual, and moral being.
1. It purports to give to the master a right to control the
physical labor of the slave, not for the sake of the happiness
of the slave, nor upon terms mutually satisfactory to the




ï~~LIBERTY MAY BE VIOLATED.

20

parties, but for the sake of the happiness of the master.
It subjects the amount of labor, and the kind of labor, and
tLe remuneration for labor, entirely to the will of the one
party, to the entire exclusion of the will of the other party.
2. But if this right in the master over the slave be con- /
ceded, there are of course conceded with if all other rights'
necessary to insure its possession. Hence, inasmuch as the
slave can be held in this condition only while he remains min
a state of comparative mental imbecility, it supposes the
master to have the right to control his intellectual development, just as far as may be necessary to secure entire subjection. Thus, it supposes the slave to have no right to
use his intellect for the production of his own happiness;
but, only to use it in such manner as may be consistent
with his master's profit.
3. And, moreover, inasmuch as the acquisition of the
Knowledge of his duty to God could not be freely made
without the acquisition of other knowledge, which might,
if universally diffused, endanger the control of the master,
slavery supposes the master to have the right to determine
how much knowledge of his duty a slave shall obtain,
the manner in which he shall obtain it, and the manner in
which he shall discharge that duty after he shall have
obtained a knowledge of it. It thus subjects the duty of
man to God, entirely to the will of man; and this for the
sake of pecuniary profit. It renders the eternal happiness
of the one party subservient to the temporal happiness of
the other. And this principle is commonly recognized by
the laws of all slave-holding countries.
If argument were necessary to show that such a system
as this must be at variance with the ordinance of God, it
might be easily drawn from the effects which it produc-s
both upon morals and upon national wealth.
1. Its effects must be disastrous upon the morals of both
parties. By presenting objects on whom passion may be
satiated without resistance and without redress, it tends to
cultivate in the master, pride, anger, cruelty, selfishness and
licentiousness. By accustoming the slave to subject his
moral principles to the will of another, it tends to abolish in
him all moral distinctions: and thus fosters in him lying,




ï~~208

MODES IN WHICH PERSONAL

deceit, hypocrisy, dishonesty, and a willingness to yield
himself up to minister to the appetites of his master. That
in all slave-holding countries there are exceptions to this
remar, and that there are principles in human nature
which, in many cases, limit the effects of these tendencies,
may be gladly admitted. Yet, that such is the tendency
of slavery, as slavery, we think no reflecting person can
for a moment hesitate to allow.
2. The effects of slavery on national wealth, way ce
easily seen from the folowing considerations:
1. Instead of imposing upon all the necessity of labor,
it restricts the number of laborers, that is, of producers,
within the smallest possible limit, by rendering labor disgraceful.
2. It takes from the laborers the natural stimulus to
labor, namely, the desire in the individual of improving
his condition; and substitutes, in the place of it, that
motive which is the least operative and the least constant,
namely, the fear of punishment without the consciousness
of moral delinquency.
3. It removes; as far as possible, from both parties, the
disposition and the motives to frugality. Neither the
master learns frugality from the necessity of labor, nor
the slave from the benefits which it confers. And hence,
while the one party wastes from ignorance of the laws of
acquisition, and the other because he can have no motive
to economy, capital must accumulate but slowly, if indeed
it accumulate at all.
And that such are the tendencies of slavery, is manifest
from observation.  No country, not of great fertility, can
long sustain a large slave population. Soils of more than
ordinary fertility cannot sustain it long, after the first richness of the soil has been exhausted. Hence, slavery min
this country is acknowledged to have impoverished many
of our most valuable districts; and, hence, it is continually
migrating from the older settlements, to those new and
untilled regions, where the accumulated manure of centuries
of vegetation has formed a soil, whose productiveness may,
fbr a while, sustain a system at variance with the laws of
nature. Many of our free and of our slave-holding States




ï~~LIBERTY MAY BE VIOLATED.

209

were peopled at about the same time. The slave-holding
States had every advantage, both in soil and climate, over
their neighbors. And yet the accumulation of capital has
been greatly in favor of the latter. If any one doubt
whether this difference be owing to the use of slave labor,
let him ask himself what would have been the condition of
the slave-holding States, at this moment, if they had been
inhabited, from the beginning, by an industrious yeomanry;
each one holding his own land, and each one tilling it with
the labor of his own hands.
But let us inquire what is the doctrine of revelation on
this subject.
The moral precepts of the Bible are diametrically
opposed to slavery.  They are, Thou shalt love thy
neighbor as thyself, and all things whatsoever ye would
that men should do unto you, do ye even so unto them.
1. The application of these precepts is universal. Our
neighbor is every one whom we may benefit. The obligation respects all things whatsoever. The precept, then,
manifestly, extends to men, as men, or men min every condition; and if to all things whatsoever, t ertainly to a thing
so important as the right to personal liberty.
2. Again. By this precept, it is made our duty to cherish
as tender and delicate a respect for the right which the
meanest individual possesses over the means of happiness
bestowed upon him by God, as we cherish for our own
right over our own means of happiness, or as we desire any
other individual to cherish for it. Now, were this precept
obeyed, it is manifest that slavery could not in fact exist for
a single instant. The principle of the precept is absolutely
subversive of the principle of slavery. That of the one is
the entire equality of right; that of the other, the entire
absorption of the rights of one in the rights of the other.
If any one doubt respecting the bearing of the Scripturet
precept upon this case, a few plain questions may throw
additional light upon the subject. For instance,1. Do the precepts and the spirit of the Gospel allow
me to derive my support from a system, which extorts
'abor from my fellow-men, without allowing them any voice
in the equivalent which they shall receive; and which can
18 *




ï~~210

MODES IN WHICH PERSONAL

only be sustained by keeping them in a state cf mental
degradation, and by shutting them out, in a great degree,
from the means o. salvation?
2. Would the master be wilimg that another person
should subject him to slavery, for the same reasons, and on
the same grounds, that he holds his slave in bondage?
3. Would the gospel allow us, if it were in our power,
to reduce our fellow-citizens of our own color to slavery?
But the gospel makes no distinction between men on the
ground of color or of race. God has made of one blood all
the nations that dwell on the earth. I think that these
questions will easily ascertain the gospel principles on this
subject.
But to this it is objected, that the gospel never forbids
slavery; and, still more, that, by prescribing the duties of
masters and servants, it tacitly allows it. This objection
is of sufficient importance to deserve attentive consideration.
The following will, I think, be considered by both parties a fair statement of the teaching of the New Testament
on this subject. The moral principles of the gospel are
directly subversive of the principles of slavery; but, on the
other hand, the gospel neither commands masters to manumit
their slaves, nor authorizes slaves to free themselves from
their masters; and, also, it goes further, and prescribes the
duties suited to both parties in their present condition.
First. Now, if this be admitted, it will, so far as I see,
be sufficient for the argument. For if the gospel be diametrically opposed to the principle of slavery, it must be
opposed to the practice of slavery; and, therefore, were the
principles of the gospel fully adopted, slavery could not
exist.
Secondly. 1. I suppose that it will not be denied, that God
has a right to inform us of his will in any manner that he
pleases; and that the intimation of his will, in what manner
soever signified, is binding upon the conscience.
2. Hence, God may make known to us his will either
directly or indirectly; and if that will be only distinctly sig-:iified, it 's as binding in the one case as in the other
Uhus, he may, in express terms, forbid a certain course of




ï~~LIBERTY MAY BE VIOLATED.

211

conduct; this is forbidding it directly; or else he may
commana certain duties, or impose certain obligations, with
which that course of conduct is manifestly inconsistent;
this is forbidding it indirectly. It is sufficient, in either
case, in order to constitute the obligation, that the will of
God be known.
3. The question, then, resolves itself into this: Has God
imposed obligations upon men which are inconsistent with
the existence of domestic slavery?  That he has, may, I
think, be easily shown.
a. He has made it our duty to proclaim the gospel to
ill men, without respect to circumstance or condition. If.t be our duty to proclaim the gospel to every creature, it
must be our duty to give to every creature every means for
attaining a knowledge of it; and, yet more imperatively,
not to place any obstacles in the way of their attaining that
knowledge.
b. He has taught us, that the conjugal relation is established by himself; that husband and wife are joined together
by God; and that man may not put them asunder. The
marriage contract is a contract for life, and is dissoluble
only for one cause, that of conjugal infidelity. Any system
that interferes with this contract, and claims to make it any
thing else than what God has made it, is in violation of
his law.
c. God has established the parental and filial relations,
and has imposed upon parents and children' appropriate and
peculiar duties. The child is bound to honor and obey
the parent; the parent to support and educate the child,
and to bring him up in the nurture and admonition of the
Lord. With these relations and obligations, no created
being has a right to interfere. A system which claims
authority to sever these relations, and to annihilate these
obligations, must be at variance with the will of God.
4. That the Christian religion does establish these relations, and impose these obligations, will not, I think, be
disputed. Now, they either are, or are not, inconsistent
with the existence of domestic slavery. If they are inconistent with the existence of slavery, then slavery is indirectly forbidden by the Christian religion. If they are not




ï~~212

MODES IN WHICH PERSONAL

inconsistent with it, then, that interference with them,
which slavery exercises, is as uncalled for as it wog Id be
in any other case; and is the infliction of just so much
gratuitous, inexcusable, and demoralizing misery. And, as
we have befoaE said, what is indirectly forbidden in the
Scripture, is as truly forbidden as though it were directly
forbidden.
But it may be asked, Why was this manner of forbidding
it chosen in preference to any other? I reply that this
question we are not obliged to answer. It is enough for us
to show that it is forbidden. It is this which establishes
the obligation, and this obligation cannot be in the least
affected by the reason which may be given, for the
manner in which God has seen fit to reveal it.
The reason may be, that slavery is a social evil; and
that, in order to eradicate it, a change must be effected in
the society in which it exists, and that this change would
oe better effected by the inculcation of the principles themselves which are opposed to slavery, than by the inculcation of a direct precept. Probably all social evils are thus
most successfully remedied.
We answer, again, this very course which the gospel takes
on this subject, seems to have been the only one that could
have been taken, in order to effect the universal abolition of
slavery. The gospel was designed, not for one race, or for
one time, but for all races, and for all times. It looked
not at the abolition of this form of evil for that age alone,
but for its universal abolition.  Hence, the important
object of its Author was, to gain it a lodgment in every part
of the known world; so that, by its universal diffusion
among all classes of society, it might quietly and peacefully
modify and subdue the evil passions of men; and thus,
without violence, work a revolution in the whole mass of
mankind. In this manner alone could its object, a universal moral revolution, have been accomplished. For, if it had
forbidden the evil, instead of subverting the principle; if it
had proclaimed the unlawfulness of slavery, and taught
slaves to resist the oppression of their masters; it would
instantly have arrayed the two parties in deadly hostility,
tnroughout the civilized world: its announcement would




ï~~LIBERTY MAY BE VIOLATED.

213

have b en the signal of servile war; and the very name of
the Christian religion would have been forgotten amidst the
agitations of universal bloodshed.  The fact, under these
circumstances, that the gospel does not forbid slavery, affords no reason to suppose that it does not mean to prohibit it; much less does it afford ground for belief, that
Jesus Christ intended to authorize it.
3. It is important to remember that two grounds of moral
obligation are distinctly recognized in the gospel. The
first is our duty to man, as man; that is, on the ground of
the relation which men sustain to each other: the second
is our duty to man, as a creature of God; that is, on the
ground of the relation which we all sustain to God. On
this latter ground, many things become our duty which
would not be so on the former. It is on this ground, that
we are commanded to return good for evil, to pray for them
that despitefully use us, and when we are smitten on one
cheek, to turn also the other. To act thus is our duty,
not because our fellow-man has a right to claim this course
of conduct of us, nor because he has a right to inflict injury
upon us, but because such conduct in us will be well pleasing
to God. And when God prescribes the course of conduct
which will be well pleasing to him, he by no means acKnowledges the right of abuse in the injurious person, but
expressly declares, Vengeance is mine, and I will repay it,
saith the Lord. Now, it is to be observed, that it is precisely upon this latter ground, that the slave is commanded to
obey his master. It is never urged, like the duty of obedience to parents, because it is right; but because the cultivation of meekness and forbearance under injury, will be
well pleasing unto God. Thus, servants are commanded
to be obedient to their own masters, "in singleness of
heart, as unto Christ;" "doing the will of God from the
heart, with good will doing service as to the Lord, and not
to men."  Eph. vi, 5-7. "Servants are commanded to
2ount their masters worthy of all honor, that the name of
God and his doctrine be not blasphemed." 1 Tim. vi, 1
"Exhort servants to be obedient to their own masters,"
&c.," that they may adorn the doctrine of God our Savior
in all things."  Titus iii, 9. The manner in which the




ï~~214

M1IODES IN WHICH PERSONAL

duty of servants or slaves is inculcated, therefore, affords
no ground for the assertion, that the gospel authorizes one
man to hold another in bondage, any more than the comn
mand to honor the king, when that king was Nero, author
ized the tyranny of the emperor; or than the command to
turn the other cheek, when one is smitten, justifies the
infliction of violence by an injurious man.*
In a word, if the gospel rule of conduct be directly at
variance with the existence of slavery; if the relations
which itestablishes, and the obligations which it enforces,
are inconsistent with its existence; if the manner in which
it treats it, is the only manner in which it could attempt its
utter and universal extermination; and if it inculcates the
duty of slaves on principles which have no connection with
the question of the right of masters over them; I think it
must be conceded that.the precepts of the gospel in no
manner countenance, but are entirely opposed to, the institution of domestic slavery.
Before closing this part of the subject, it may be proper
to consider the question, What is the duty of masters and
slaves, under a condition of society in which slavery now
exists?
I. As to masters.
If the system be wrong, as we have endeavored to show,
if it be at variance with our duty both to God and to man,
it must be abandoned.  If it be asked, When? I ask again,
When shall a man begin to cease doing wrong?  Is not the
answer always, Immediately?  If a man is injuring us, do
we ever doubt as to the time when he ought to cease?
There is then no doubt in respect to the time when we
ought to cease inflicting injury upon others.
But it may be said, immediate abolition would be the
greatest possible injury to the slaves themselves. They are
not competent to self-government.
This is a question of fact, which it is not within the province of moral philosophy to decide. It very likely may be
* I have retained the above paragraph, though I confess that the remarks of Professor Taylor, of the Union Theological Seminary of Vir
gi lia, have led me seriously to doubt whether the distinction to which
it a1 udes is sustained by the  wr Testament.




ï~~LIBERTY MAY BE VIOLATED.

215

so. So far as I know, the facts are not sufficiently known
to warrant a fill opinion on the subject. We will, therefore, suppose it to be the case, and ask, What is the duty
of masters under these circumstances?
1. The situation of the slaves, in which this obstacle to
their emancipation consists, is not by their own act, but by
the act of their masters; and, therefore, the masters are
bound to remove it. The slaves were brought here without their own consent, they have been continued in their
present state of degradation without their own consent, and
they are not responsible for the consequences. If a man
have done injustice to his neighbor, and have also placed
impediments in the way of remedying that injustice, he is
as much under obligation to remove the impediments in the
way of justice, as he is to do justice. Were it otherwise,
a man might, by the accumulation of injury, at last render
the.most atrocious injury innocent and right.
2. But it may be said, this cannot be done, unless the
slave is held in bondage until the object be accomplished.
This is also a question of fact, on which I will not pretend
to decide. But suppose it to be so, the question returns,
What then is the duty of the master? I answer, supposing
such to be the fact, it may be the duty of the master to hold
the slave; not, however, on the ground of right over him
but of obligation to him, and of obligation to him for the
purpose of accomplishing a particular and specified good
An d, of course, he who holds him for any other purpose, hold.
him wrongfully, and is guilty of the sin of slavery. In the
mean while, he is innocent in just so far 'is he, in the fear oi
God. holds the slave, not for the good of the master, but for
the good of the slave, and with the entire and honest intention
of accomplishing the object as soon as he can, and of liberating the slave as soon as the object is accomplished, iHe
thus admits the slave to equality of right. He does unto
another as he would that another should do unto him; and,
thus acting, though he may in form hold a fellow-creature
in bondage, he is in fact innocent of the cime of violation
of liberty. This opinion, however, proceeds upon the supposition that the facts are as above stated. As to the
question of fact, I do not feel competent to a decision.




ï~~-216

MODES IN WHICH PERSONAL.

II. The duty of slaves is also[ xplicitly made known ui
the Bible. They are bound to obedience, fidelity, submission, and respect to their masters, not only to the good
and kind, but also to the unkind and froward; not, howover, on the gTound of duty to man, but on the ground of
dauty to God. This obligation extends to every thing but
matters of conscience. When a master commands a slave
to do wrong, the slave ought not to obey. The Bible
does not, as I suppose, authorize resistance to injury; but it
commands us to refuse obedience in such a case, and suffer
the consequences, looking to God alone, to whom vengeance belongeth. Acting upon these principles, the slave
may attain to the highest grade of virtue, and may exhibit
a sublimity and purity of moral character, which, in the
condition of the master, is absolutely unattainable.
Thus we see that the Christian religion not only forbids
slavery, but that it also provides the only method in which,
after it has once been established, it may be abolished, and
that with entire safety and benefit to both parties. By instilling the right moral dispositions into the bosom of the
master and of the slave, it teaches the one the duty of reciprocity, and the other the duty of submission; and thus,
without tumult, without disorder; without revenge, but, by
the real moral improvement of both parties, restores both to
the relation towards each other intended by their Creator.
Hence, if any one will reflect on these facts, and rememoer the moral law of the Creator, and the terrible sanctions
by which his laws are sustained, and also the provision
which in the gospel of reconciliation, He has made for removing this evil after it has once been established; he must
I think, be convinced of the imperative obligation which
rests upon him to remove it without the delay of a moment.
The Judge of the whole earth will do justice.. He hears
the cry of the oppressed, and he will, in the end, terribly
vindicate right. And, on the other hand, let those who
suffer wrongfully, bear their sufferings with patience, committing their souls unto him as unto a faithful Creator.
PART II. The right of personal liberty may be violated
by SOCIETY.
As the right to use the means of happiness which God




ï~~LIBERTY MAY BE VIOLATEL

217

has given him in such manner as he will, provided he do
not violate the corresponding rights of others, is conferred
upon the individual by his Creator, it is manifest that no
being but the Creator can rightly restrict it. The individual
is just as truly, in this sense, independent of society, as he
is of individuals. Society is composed of individuals, and
can have no other rights than the individuals of which it is
composed, only in just so far as the individual voluntarily,
and for an equivalent, has conceded to it, in given and limited respects, some of the rights of which he was originally
possessed. Whenever society interferes with these original
rights, unless in the cases in which they have been voluntarily ceded, then the right df personal liberty is violated
Thus, the Declaration of Independence, above quoted, after
having asserted the universality of the equality of men;
by virtue of their creation, and that they are endowed by
their Creator with certain inalienable rights, among which
are life, liberty, and the pursuit of happiness, proceeds to
state, "that, tQ secure these rights, governments were instituted among men, deriving their just powers from the consent of the governed;" (that is, by the concession of the
individual to society;) " that, when any form of government
becomes destructive of these ends, it is the right of the people
to alter or to abolish it, and to institute a new government,
laying its foundation in such principles, and organizing its
powers in such form, as to them shall seem most likely to
effect their safety and happiness."
SOCIETY may violate the personal rights of the individual.
1. By depriving him unjustly of his physical liberty, or
any of his means of physical happiness. This is done, first,
whenever any individual is imprisoned or punished, except
for crime.
2. Whenever, although ha may have been guilty of
crime, he is imprisoned or punished without a fair and impartial trial; for, as every man is presumed to be innocent
dntil he shall have been proved to be guilty, to imprison or
molest him without such proof is to imprison or molest him
while he is innocent. This remark, however, does not
apply to the detention of prisoners in order to trial. The
detention in this case is not for the purposes of punishment,
19




ï~~218

MODES IN WHICH "ERSONAI

but simply to prevent escape, and as a neco sa.ry mear i,
the execution of justice. It is also no injustice; for it i, a
power over their persons which the individuals have, for
mutual good, conceded to society.
3. Inasmuch as every individual has the right to go where
he pleases, under the limitations above specified, this right
is violated, not merely by confining him to a particular
place, but also by forbidding his going to any particular
place within the limits of the society to which he oelongs,
or by forbidding him to leave it when and how he pleases
As his connection with the society to which he belongs is a
voluntary act, his simple will is an ultimate reason why he
should leave it; and the free exercise of this will cannot,
without injustice, be restrained.
The great clause in the Magna Charta on this general
subject, is in these memorable words: "Let no freeman
be imprispned, or disseized, or outlawed, or in any manner
injured or proceeded against by us, otherwise than by the
legal judgment of his peers, or by the law of the land."
And the full enjoyment of this right is guaranteed to every
individual in this country and in Great Britain, by the
celebrated act of Habeas Corpus: by which, upon a
proper presentation of the case before a judge, the judge is
under obligation, if there be cause, to command the person
who has the custody of another, to bring him immediately
before him; and is also obliged to set the prisoner at large,
unless it appear to him that he is deprived of his liberty for
a satisfactory reason.
2. Society may violate the rights of the individual by
restraining his intellectual liberty.
I have before stated that a man has the right to the use
of his intellect in such manner as he pleases, provided he
interfere not with the rights of others. This includes, first,
the right to pursue what studies he pleases; and, secondly,
to publish them when and where he pleases, subject to the
above limitation.
1. This right is violated, first, when society, or government, which is its agent, prohibits any course of study or
investigation to which the inclination of the individual may
determine him.




ï~~LIBERTY MAY BE VIOLATED.             21 9
2. When governnent prohibits him from publishing these
results, and from attempting, by the use of argument, to
make as many converts to his opinions as he can, in both
cases within the limits specified. If it be said, that men
may thus be led into error, the answer is, For this error the
individuals themselves, and not their neighbor, are responsible; and, therefore, the latter has no authority to interfere.
These remarks apply to those cases only, in which the
use of the individual's intellect is without injury to the
rights of others. They, however, by the terms of the
case, exclude those modes of intellectual employment,
which do thus interfere. It is obvious, that a man has
no more right to restrict, by the use of his intellect, my
just control over the means of happiness bestowed upon
me, than by the use of his body, or the use of his property.
What I have said, therefore, in no manner precludes the
right of society to restrict the use of the individual's intellect, in those cases where this violation exists.
But when this violation is supposed to exist, by what
rule is society to be governed, so as, in the exercise of the
right of restraint, to avoid infringement of the law of intellectial liberty? I am aware that the decision of this question is attended with great difficulties. I shall, however,
endeavor to suggest such hints as seem to me to throw
light upon it, in the hope that the attention of some one
better able to elucidate it, may be thus more particularly
attracted to the discussion.
1. Society is bound to protect those rights of the individual which he has committed to its charge. Among
these, for instance, is reputation. As the individual relinquishes the right of protecting his own reputation, as well
as his property, society undertakes to protect it for him.
2. Society has the right to prevent its own destruction
As, without society, individual man would, almost univer
sally, perish; so men, by the law of self-preservation, have
a right to prohibit those modes of using a man's mind, as
well as those of using his body, by which society would be
annihilated.
3. As society has the right to employ its power to prevent its own dissolution, it also has the same right to pro



ï~~220

MODES IN WHICH PERSONAL

tect itself from causeless injury. A man has no more right
to carry on a trade by which his neighbor is annoyed, than
one by which he is poisoned.   So, if the employment of a
man's intellect be not of such a character as to be positively
fatal, yet, if it be positively mischievous, and if such be
its manifest tendency, society has a right to interfere and
prohibit it.
4. It is, however, a general principle, that society is
not to interfere, while the individual has in himself the
means of repelling, or of rendering nugatory, the injury.
Whenever, therefore, although the publication of opinions
be confessedly injurious, the injury is of such a nature,
that every individual can protect himself from it, society
leaves the individual to the use of that power which he
still retains, and which is sufficient to remedy the evil.
If I mistake not, these principles will enable us to distinguish between those cases in which it is, and those in
which it is not, the duty of society to interfere with the
freedom of the human intellect.
1. Whenever the individual possesses within himself the
means of repelling the injury, society should not interfere.
As, for instance, so far as an assertion is false, and false
simply, as in philosophical or mathematical error, men have,
n their own understandings and their instinctive perception
of truth, a safeguard against injury. And, besides this
when discussion is free, error may be refuted by argument;
and in this contest, truth has always, from the constitution
of things, the advantage. It needs not, therefore, physical
force to assist it. The confutation of error is also decisive.
It reduces it absolutely to nothing. Whereas the forcible
prohibition of discussion leaves things precisely as they
were, and gives to error the additional advantage of the
presumption, that it could not be answered by argument;
that is, that it is the truth.
2. But, suppose the matter made public is also injurious,
and is either false, or, if true, is of such a nature as directly
to tend to the destruction of individual or social happiness,
and the individual has not in himself the power of repelling
the injury.  Here, the facts being proved, society is bound
to interfere, and impose such penalty, and render such




ï~~LIBERTY MAY BE VIOLATED..

221

redress, as shall, if possible,,remunerate the injured party,
or, at least, prevent the repetition of the offence.
Under this head, several cases occur:
1. If a man use his intellect for the purpose of destroying his neighbor's reputation, it is the duty of society to
interfere. There is here a manifest injury, inasmuch as
reputation is a means of happiness, and as much the property of an individual, as his house or lands, or any other
result of his industry. He has, besides, no method of
redress within himself; for he may be ruined by a general
assertion, which is in its nature incapable of being disproved.
As if A asserted that B had stolen; this, if believed, would
ruin B; but he could not disprove it, unless he could summon all the men with whom, in his whole life, he had
ever had any pecuniary transactions. Besides, if he could
do this, he could never convey the facts to all persons to
whom A had conveyed the scandal. Were such actions
allowed, every one might be deprived of his reputation,
one of his most valuable means of happiness. It is the
duty of society, therefore, in this case, to guard the rights
of the individual, by granting him redress, and preventing
the repetition of the injury.
2. Inasmuch as men. are actuated by various passions,
which are only useful when indulged within certain restraints, but which, when indulged without these restraints,
are destructive of individual right, as well as of society
itself; society has a right to prohibit the use of intellect for
the purpose of exciting the passions of men beyond those
limits. As he is guilty who robs another, so is he also
guilty who incites another to robbery; and still more, he who
incites, not one man, but a multitude of men, to robbery.
Hence, society has a right to prohibit obscene books, obscene pictures, and every thing of which the object and
tendency is to promote lasciviousness.   On the same
ground, it has a right to prohibit incendiary and seditious
publications, and every thing which would provoke the
enmity or malice of men against each other.
The reason of this is, first, injury of this kind cannot be
repelled by argument, for it is not addressed to the reason.;
and the very mention or he subject excites those imagina19*




ï~~2-22

MODES IN WHICH PERSONAL

tions, from which the injury.to society arises. As the ev
is susceptible of no other remedy than prohibition, and athe welfare of society requires that a remedy be found,
prohibition is the right and the duty of society.
Another reason, applicable to most publications of this
sort, is found in the nature of the parental relation. The
parent, being the guardian of his child's morals, has the
right of directing what he shall and what he shall not read
Hence, all the parents of a community, that is, society at
large, have a right to forbid such books as shall, in thei
opinion, injure the moral character of their children.
3. Again. Society may be dissolved, not merely by the
excitation of unlawful passion, but by the removal of moral
restraint. Every one must see that, if moral distinctions
were abolished, society could not exist for a moment. Men
might be gregarious, but they would cease to be social.
If any one, therefore, is disposed to use his intellect for
the purpose of destroying, in the minds of men, the distinction between virtue and vice, or any of those fundamental principles on which the existence of society depends,
society has a right to interfere and prohibit him.
This right of society is founded, first, upon the right of
self-preservation; and, secondly, upon the ground of common sense. Society is not bound to make, over and over
again, an experiment which the whole history of man has
proved always to end in licentiousness, anarchy, misery,
and universal bloodshed. Nor can any man claim a right
to use his mind in a way which must, if allowed, produce
unmixed misery and violation of right, wherever its influence
is exerted.
Besides, in this, as in the other cases specified, society
has no means of counteracting the injury by argument,
because such appeals are made, not to the reason and the
conscience, but to the rapacious passions of men; and,
also, because those persons who would listen to such suggestions, would rarely, if ever, be disposed to read, much
les to examine and reflect upon, any argument that could
be offered.
But it may be objected, that a society constituted on
these pinciples, might check the progress of flee inquiry,




ï~~LIBERTY MAY BE VIOLATED.

'223

anu~ under the pretext of injurious tendency, hlimit the
'iberty of fair discussion.
To this it may be answered,
It is no objection to a rule, that it is capable of abuse;
for this objection will apply to all laws and to all arrangements that man has ever devised. In the present imperfect condition of human nature, it is frequently sufficient
that a rule prevents greater evil than it inflicts.
It is granted that men may suppose a discussion injurious when it is not so, and may thus limit, unnecessarily, the
freedom of inquiry. But let us see in what manner this
abuse is guarded against.
The security, in this case, is the trial by jury. When
twelve men, taken by lot from the whole community, sit in
judgment, and specially when the accused has the right
of excepting, for cause, to as many as he will, he is sure
of having, at least, an impartial tribunal. These judges
are themselves under the same law which they administer
to others. As it is not to be supposed that they would
wish to abridge their own personal liberty, it is not to be
supposed that they would be willing to abridge it for the
sake of interfering with that of their neighbor.  The
question is, therefore, placed in the hands of as impartial
judges as the nature of the case allows. To such a tribunal, no reasonable man can, on principle, object. To
their decision, every candid man would, when his duty to
God did not forbid, readily submit.
Now, as it must be granted that no man has a right to
use his intellect to the injury of a community, the only
question in any particular case, is, whether the use complained of is injurious, and injurious in such a sense as to
require the interference of society. It surely does not
need argument to show that the unanimous decision of
twelve men is more likely to be correct than the decision
of one man; and specially that the decision of twelve men,
who have no personal interest in the affair, is more likely to
be correit, than that of one man who is liable to all the
influences of personal vanity, love of distinction, and pec,
niary emolument.   There surely can be no      question
-heth r, in a matter on which the dearest interests of




ï~~224           MODES IN WHICH PERSONAL
others are concerned, a man is to be a judge in his own
case, or whether as impartial a tribunal as the ingenuity of
man has ever devised, shall judge for him. If it be said
that twelve impartial men are liable to error, and by consequence to do injustice, it may be answered, How much
more liable is one, and he a partial man, to err and to do
injustice! If, then, a system of trial of this sort, not only
must prevent more injury than it inflicts, but is free from
all liability to injury, except such as results from the acknowledged imperfections of our nature, the fault, if it
exist, is not in the rule, but in the nature of man, and
must be endured until the nature of man be altered.
And I cannot close this discussion without remarking,
that a most solemn and imperative duty seems to me to
rest upon judges, legislators, jurors and prosecuting officers,
in regard to this subject. We hear, at the present day,
very much about the liberty of the press, the freedom of
inquiry, and the freedom of the human intellect. All these
are precious blessings-by far too precious to be lost. But
it is to be remembered, that no liberty can exist without
restraint; and the remark is as true of intellectual as of
physical liberty. As there could be no physical liberty, if
every one, both bad and good, did what he would, so there
would soon be no liberty, either physical or intellectual, if
every man were allowed to publish what he would. The man
who publishes what will inflame the licentious passions, or
subvert the moral principles of others, is undermining the
foundations of the social fabric; and it is kindness neither
to him nor to society, quietly to look on until both he and
we are crushed beneath the ruins. The danger to liberty
is pre6minently greater, at the present day, from the licentiousness than from the restriction of the press. It therefore becomes all civil and judicial officers to act as the
guardians of society; and, unawed by popular clamor, and
unseduced by popular favor, resolutely to defend the people
against their worst enemies. Whatever may be the form
of a government, it cannot long continue free, after it has
refused to acknowledge the distinction between the liberty
and the licentiousness.of the press. And, much as we
may execrate a profligate writer, let us remember that the




ï~~LIBERTY MAY BE VIOLATED.

I25

civil officer who, from pusillanimity, refuses to exercise the
power placed in his hands to restrain abuse, deserves, at
least, an equal share of our execration.
THnIRDLY. The right of religious liberty may be violated oy society.
We have before said, that every individual has the right
to pursue his own happiness, by worshipping his Creator in
any way that he pleases, provided he do not interfere with
Lhe rights of his neighbor.
This includes the following things: He is at liberty to
worship God in any form that he deems most acceptable
to Him, to worship individually or socially, and to promote
that form of worship which he considers acceptable to
God, by the promulgation of such sentiments as he believes to be true, provided he leave the rights of his
neighbors unmolested; and of this liberty he is not to be
restricted, unless such molestation be made manifest to a
jury of his peers.
As a man is at liberty to worship God individually or in
societies collected for that purpose, if his object can be
secured, in his own opinion, by the enjoyment of any of
the facilities for association granted to other men for innocent purposes, he is entitled to them just as other men are.
The general principle applicable to thile case, I suppose to
be this: A man, in consequence of being religious, that is,
of worshipping God, acquires no human right whatever;
for it is, so far as his fellow-men's rights are concerned,
the same thing, whether he worship God or not. And, on
the other hand, in consequence of being religious, he loses
no right, and for the same reason. And, therefore, as men
are entitled to all innocent facilities which they need for
prosecuting an innocent object, a religious man has the
same right to these facilities for promoting his object; and
it is the business of no one to inquire whe.her this be religious, scientific, mechanical, or any other, so long as it is
merely innocent.
Now this rignt is violated by society,1. By forbidding the exercise of all religion; as in the
case of tihe French Revolution.
2. By forbidding or enforcing the exercise of any form




ï~~226

MODES IN WHICH PERSONAL

of religion.  In so far as an act is religious, society has no
right of control over it. If it interfere with the rights of
others, this puts it within the control of society, and this
alone, and solely for this reason. The power of society is,
therefore, in this case, exercised simply on the ground of
injury perpetrated and proved, and not on account of the
truth or falseness, the goodness or badness, of the religion
in the sight of the Creator.
3. By inflicting disabilities upon men, or depriving them
)f any of their rights as men, because they are or are not
religious. This violation occurs in all cases in which society
interferes to deny to religious men the same privileges foi
promoting their happiness by way of religion, as they enjoy
for promoting their happiness in any other innocent way.
Such is the case when religious societies are denied the
right of incorporation, with all its attendant privileges, for
the purposes of religious worship, and the promotion of their
religious opinions. Unless it can be shown that the enjoyment of such privileges interferes with the rights of others,
the denial of them is a violation of religious liberty. Depriving clergymen of the elective franchise, is a violation of
a similar character.
4. By placing the professors of any peculiar form of
religion under any disabilities; as, for instance, rendering
them ineligible to office, or in any manner making a distinction between them and any other professors of religion,
or any other men. As society has no right to inflict disabilities upon men, on the ground of their worshipping God
in general, by consequence, it has no right to inflict disabilities on the ground of worshipping God in any manner
in particular. If the whole subject is without the control
of society, a part of it is also without its control.  Different
modes of worship may be more or less acceptable to
God; but this gives to no man a right to interfere with
those means of happiness, which God has conferred upon
any other man.
Thel question may arise here, whether society has a right
to provide,y law for the support of religious instruction
I answer, If the existence of religious instruction be necessary to he existenae of soc ty, and if therer be no other




ï~~LIBERTY MAY 'E VIOLATED.

227

rnoae if providing for its support, but by legislative enactment; then, I do not see any more violation of principle mi
such enactment, than in that for the support of common
schools; provided that no one were obliged to attend unless
he chose, and that every one were allowed to pay for that
form of worship which he preferred. There are other objections, however, to such a course, aside from that arising
from the supposed violation of civil liberty.
1. It cannot be shown that religious teachers cannot be
supported without legislative aid. The facts teach a different result.
2. The religion of Christ has always exerted its greatest
power when, entirely unsupported, it has been left to exert
its own peculiar effect upon the consciences of men.
3. The support of religion by law is at variance with the
genius of the gospel. The gospel supposes every man to
be purely voluntary in his service of God, in his choice of
the mode of worship of his religious teachers, and of the
compensation which he will make to them for their services. Now, all this is reversed in the supposition of a
ministry supported by civil power. We therefore conclude
that, although such support might be provided without interference with civil liberty, it could not be done without
violation of the spirit of the gospel. That is, though the
state might be desirous of affording aid to the church, the
church is bound, on principle, resolutely and steadfastly to
protest against in any manner receiving it.
4. And I think that the facts will show that this view of
the subject is correct. The clergy, as a profession, are
better remunerated by voluntary support than by legal
enactment. When the people arrange the matter of compensation with their clergymen themselves, there are no
rich and overgrown benefices3 but there are also but few
miserably poor curacies. The minister, if he deserve it.
generally lives as well as his people. If it be said that high
talent should be rewarded by elevated rank in this profession,
as in any other, I answer, that such seems to me not to be
the genius of the gospel. The gospel presents no inducements of worldly rank or of official dignity, and it scorns to
hold out such motives to the religious teacher. I answer




ï~~228       MODES IN WHICH PERSONAL, ETC.
again, official rank and luxurious splendor, instead of adding
to, take from, the real influence of a teacher of religion.
They tend to destroy that moral hardihood which is necessary to the success of him, whose object it is to render mei,
better; and, while they surround him with all the insignia
of power, enervate that very spirit on which moral power
essentially depends. And, besides, a religion supported by
the government, must soon become the tool of the government; or, at least, must be involved and implicated in every
change which the government may undergo. How utterly
at variance this must be with the principles of Him who
declared, "My kingdom is not of this world," suiely need
not be illustrated.




ï~~229

CH&PTER         SE.JONj.
JUSTICE IA RESPECT TO PROPERT V
SECTION I.
THE RIGHT OF PROPERTY.
I. DEFINITION of the right of property.
The abstract right of property is the right to use sortiething in such manner as I choose.
But, inasmuch as this right of use is common to all men,
and as one may choose to use his property in such a way
as to deprive his neighbor of this or of some other right, the
right to use as I choose is limited by the restriction, that I
do not interfere with the rights of my neighbor. The right
of property, therefore, when thus restricted, is the right to>
use something as I choose, provided I do not so use it as to
interfere with the rights of my neighbor.
Thus, we see that, from the very nature of the case, the
right of property is exclusive; that is to say, if I have a
right to any thing, this right excludes every one else from
any right over that thing; and it imposes upon every one
else the obligation to leave me unmolested in the use of it,
within those limits to which my right extends.
II. On what the right of property is founded.
The right of property is founded on the will of God, as
made known to us by natural conscience, by general consequences, and by revelation.
Every thing which we behold is essentially the property
of the Creator; and he has a right to confer the use of it
upon whomsoever, and under what restrictions soever, he
pleases. We may know in what relations he wills us to
stand towards the things around us by the principles which
20




ï~~Q30

THE RIGHT OF PROPERTY.

he has implanted within us, and by the result produced in
individuals and communities by t::e different couises of
conduct of which men are capable.
Now God signifies to us his will on this subject,First. By the decisions of natural conscience. This
is known from several circumstances.
1. All men, as soon as they begin to think, even in early
youth and infancy, perceive this relation. They immediately appropriate certain things to themselves; they feel
injured, if their control over those things is violated, and
they are conscious of guilt, if they violate this right in
respect to others.
2. The relation of property is expressed by the possessive pronouns. These are found in all languages. So
universally is this idea diffused over the whole mass of
human action and human feeling, that it would be scarcel)
possible for two human beings to converse for even a few
minutes on any subject, or in any language, without the
frequent use of the words which designate the relation of
possession.
3. Not only do men feel the importance of sustaining
each other in the exercise of the right of property, but
they manifestly feel that he who violates it has done wrong;
that is, has violated obligation, and hence deserves punishment, on the ground, not simply of the consequences of
the act, but of the guiltiness of the actor. Thus, if a man
steal, other men are not satisfied when he has merely made
restitution, although this may perfectly make up the loss
to the injured party. It is always considered that something more is due, either from God or from man, as a punishment for the crime. Hence, the Jewish law enjoined
tenfold restitution in cases of theft, and modemrn law inflicts
fines, imprisonment, and corporal punishment, for the same
offence.
Secondly. That God wills the possess on of property, is
evident from the general consequences which result from
the existence of this relation.
The existence and progress of s(ciety, nay, the very
existence of our race, depends upon the acknowledgment
of this right.




ï~~THE RIGHT OF PROPERTY.

231

Were not every individual entitled to the results of his
labor, and to the exclusive enjoyment of the benefits of
these results,1. No one would labor any more than was sufficient for
his own individual subsistence, because he would have no
more right than any other person to the value which he
had created.
2. Hence, there would be no accumulation; of course,
no capital, no tools, no provision for the future, no houses,
and no agriculture. Each man, alone, would be obliged
to contend, at the same time, with the elements, with wild
beasts, and also with his rapacious fellow-men. The human
race, under such circumstances, could not long exist.
3. Under such circumstances, the race of man must
speedily perish, or its existence be prolonged, even in
favorable climates, under every accumulation of wretchedness. Progress would be out of the question; and the
only change which could take place, would be that arising
from the pressure of heavier and heavier penury, as the spontaneous productions of the earth became rarer, from in-.
provident consumption, without any correspondent labor for
reproduction.
4. It needs only to be remarked, in addition, that just
in proportion as the right of property is held inviolate, just
in that proportion civilization advances, and the comforts
and conveniences of life multiply. Hence it is, that, in
free and well ordered governments, and specially during
peace, property accumulates, all the orders of society enjoy
the blessings of competence, the arts flourish, science advances, and men begin to form some conception of the
happiness of which the present system is capable. And,
on the contrary, under despotism, when law spreads its
protection over neither house, land, estate, nor life, and
specially.during civil wars, industry ceases, capital stagnates, the arts decline, the people starve, population diminishes, and men rapidly tend to a state of barbarism.
Thirdly. The Holy Scriptures treat of the right of property as a thing acknowledged, and direct their precepst
against every act by which it is violated, and also against
hdie tempers of mind from which such violation proceeds.




ï~~THE RIGH" OF PROPERTY.

The doctrine of reve)tiot is so clearly set forth on this
subject, that I need not delay for the sake of dwelling
upon it. It will be sufficient to refer to the prohibitions in
the decalogue against stealing and coveting, and to the
various precepts in the New Testament respecting our
duty in regard to our neighbor's possessions.
I proceed, in the next place, to consider,III. The modes in which the right of property may be
acquired. These may be divided into two classes: first,
direct; second, indirect.
First. Direct.
1. By the immediate gift of God.
When God has given me a desire for any object, and
has spread this object before me, and there is no rational
creature to contest my claim, I may take that object, and
use it as I will, subject only to the limitation of those obligations to Him, and to my fellow-creatures, which have
been before specified. On this principle is founded my
right to enter upon wild and unappropriated lands, to hunt
wild game, to pluck wild fruit, to take fish, or any thing of
this sort. This right is sufficient to exclude the right of any
subsequent claimant; for, if it has been given to me, that
act of gift is valid, until it can be shown by another that
it has been annulled. A grant of this sort, however, applies only to an individual so long as he continues the locum
tenens, and no longer. He has no right to enter upon unappropriated land, and leave it, and then claim it afterward
by virtue of his first possession. Were it otherwise, any
individual might acquire a title to a whole continent, and
exclude from it all the rest of his species.
2. By the labor of our hands.
Whatever value I have created by my own labor, or by
the innocent use of the other means of happiness which
God has given me, is mine. This is evident from the principle already so frequently referred to; namely, that I
have a right to use, for my own happiness, whatever God
has given me, provided I use it not to the injury of another.
Thus, if I catch a deer, or raise an ear of corn upon land
otherwise unappropriated, that deer, or that corn, is mine
No reason can possibly be conceived, why any other being




ï~~THE RIGHT OF PROPERTY.

233

should raise a claim to them, which could extinguish, o:
even interfere with mine.
This, however, is not meant to assert, that a man has a
nright to any thing more than to the results of his labor.
He has no right, of course, to the results of the labor of
another. If, by my labor, I build a mill, and employ a
man to take the charge of it, it does not follow that he.has
a right to all the profits of the mill. If I, by my labor
and frugality, earn money to purchase a farm, and hire a
laborer to work upon it, it does not follow that he has a
right to all the produce of the farm. The profit is, in this
case, to be divided between us. He has a right to the
share which fairly belongs to his labor, and I have a right
to the share that belongs to me, as the proprietor and possessor of that which is the result of my antecedent labor.
It would be as unjust for him to have the whole profit, as
for me to have the whole of it. It is fairly a case of partnership, in which each party receives his share of the
result, upon conditions previously and voluntarily agreed
upon.  This is the general principle of wages.
Secondly. The right of property may be acquired indirectly.
1. By exchange.
Inasmuch as I have an exclusive right to appropriate,
innocently, the possessions which I have acouired, by the
means stated above, and, inasmuch as every oLher man has
the same right, we may, if we choose, voluntarily exchange
our right to particular things with each other. If I cultivate wheat, and my neighbor cultivates corn, and we, both
of us, have more of our respective production man we
wish to use for ourselves, we may, on such terms as we
can agree upon, exchange the one for the other. Property
held in this manner is held rightfully. This exchange is
of two kinds: first, barter, where the exchange on both
sides, consists of commodities; and, seconu, bargain and
sale, where one of the parties gives, and the other receives,
money for his property.
2. By gft.
As I may thus rightfully part with, and another party
rightfully -eceive, my property, for an equiv'lent rendered
20*




ï~~234

THE RIGHT OF PROPERTY.

so I may, if I choose, part with it without an equivalent,
that is, merely to gratify my feelings of benevolence, of
affec tion, or gratitude. Here, I voluntarily confer upon
another the right of ownership, and he may rightfully
receive and occupy it.
3. By will.
As I have the right to dispose of my property as I
please, during my life-time, and may exchange it or give it
as I will, at any time previous to my decease, so I may
give it to another, on the condition that he shall not enter
into possession until after my death. Property acquired in
this manner is held rightfully.
4. By inheritance.
Inasmuch as persons frequently die without making a
will, society, upon general principles, presumes upon the
manner in which the deceased would have distributed his
property, had he made a will. Thus, it is supposed that he
would distribute his wealth among his widow and children;
or, in failure of these, among his blood relations; and in
proportions corresponding to their degree of consanguinity.
Property may be rightfully acquired in this manner.
5. By possession.
In many cases, although a man have no moral right to
property, yet he may have a right to exclude others from
it; and others are under obligation to leave him unmolested
in the use of it. Thus, a man has by fraud obtained possession of a farm, and the rightful owners have all died:
now, although the present holder has no just title to the
property, yet, if it were to be taken from him and held by
another, the second would have no better title than the
first; and a third person would have the same right to dispossess the second, and in turn be himself dispossessed, and
so on for ever; that is, there would be endless controversy,
without any nearer approximation to justice; and hence, it
is better that the case be left as it was in the first instance;
that is, in general, possession gives a right, so far as man is
concerned, to unmolested enjoyment, unless some one else
can establish a better title.
6. And hence, in general, I believe it will hold, tlia:
while merely the laws of society do not give a man any




ï~~THY RIGHT OF PROPERTY.

235

rMora' right to property, yet, when these laws have once
assign:d it to him, this simple fact imposes a moral obligation upon all other men to leave him in the undisturbed
possession of itf. I have no more right to set fire to the
house of a man, who has defrt aded an orphan to obtain it,
than I have to set fire to the house of any other man.
To sum up what has been said,-property may be
originally acquired either by the gift of God, or by our own
labor: it may be subsequently acquired either by exchange,
or by gift during life, or by will; but, in these cases of
transfer of ownership, the free consent of the original owner
is necessary to render the transfer morally right; and, lastly,
where the individual has not acquired property justly, yet
mere possession, though it alters not his moral right to possession, yet it is a sufficient bar to molestation, unless some
other claimant can prefer a better title. These, I think,
comprehend the most important modes by which the right
of property can be acquired.
That principles somewhat analogous to these are in
accordance with the laws of God is, I think, evident from
observation of the history of man. The more rigidly these
principles have been carried into active operation, the
greater amount of happiness has been secured to the individual, and the more rapidly do nations advance in civilization, and the more successfully do they carry into effect
every means of mental and moral cultivation. The first
steps that were taken in. the recovery of Europe from the
misery of the dark ages, consisted in defining and establishing the right of property upon the basis of equitaole
and universal law. Until something of this sort is done,
no nation can emerge from a state of barbarism.*
And hence we see the importance of an able, learned,
upright, and independent judiciary, and the necessity to
national prosperity of carrying the decisions of law into
universal and impartial effect. It not unfrequently happens
that, for the purposes of party, the minds of the people are
inflamed against the tribunals whose duty it is to administer
iustice; or else, on the other hand, for the same purpose, a
* Robertson's Preliminary Dissertation to the History of Charles V.




ï~~236   MODES IN WHICH THE RIGHT OF PROt'ERTY
flagrant violation of justice by a popular favorite is looker
upon as harmless  Let it be remembered, that society must
be dissolved, unless the supremacy of the law be maintained
"The voice of the law" will cease to be "'the harmony ot
the world," unless "at.hings," both high and low, " do hei
reverence." How often has even-handed justice commend
ed the chalice to the lips of the demagogue; and he has
been the first to drink of that cup which he supposed himself to be mingling for others!
SECTION II.
MODES IN WHICH THE RIGHT OF PROPERTY MAY BE VIOLATED
BY THE INDIVIDUAL.
I have already remarked, that the right of property, so
far as it extends, is exclusive both of the individual and of
society. This is true in respect to both parties. Thus,
whatever I own, I own exclusively both of society and of
individuals; and whatever either individuals or society own,
they own exclusively of me. Hence,,the right of property
is equally violated by taking viciously either public or pri-.
vate property; and it is equally violated by taking viciously,
whether the aggressor be the public or an individual. And,
moreover, it is exclusive to the full amount of what is
owned. It is, therefore, as truly a violation of the right of
property, to take a little as to take much; to purloin a book
or a penknife as to steal money; to steal fruit as to steal a
horse; to defraud the revenue as to rob my neighbor; to
overcharge the public as to overcharge my brother; to
cheat the post-office as to cheat my friend.
It has already been observed, that a right to the property
of another can be acquired only by his own voluntary
choice. This follows, immediately from the definition of
the right of property. But, in order to render this choice
of right available, it must be influenced by no motives presented wrorgfully by the receiver  Thus if I demand a




ï~~MAY BE VIOLATED BY THE INDIVIDUAL.

217

man's purse on the alternative that I will shoot him if he
deny i:e, he may surrender it rather than be shot; but I
have no right to present such an alternative, and the consent of the owner renders it no less a violation of the right
)f property. If I inflame a man's vanity in order to induce
aim to buy of me a coach which he does not want, the
transaction is dishonest; because I have gained his will by
a motive which I had no right to use. So, if I represent an
article in exchange to be different from what it is, I present
a false motive, and gain his consent by a lie. And thus, in
general, as I have said, a transfer of property is morally
wrong, where the consent of the owner is obtained by rmeans
of a vicious act on the part of the receiver.
The right of property may be violated,I. By taking property without the knowledge of the
owner, or theft. It is here to be remembered, that the consent of the owner is necessary to any transfer of property.
We do not vary the nature of the act by persuading ourselves that the owner will not care about it, or that he
would have no objection, or that he will not know it, or that
it will never injure him to lose it. All this may or may not
be; but none of it varies the moral character of the transaction. The simple question is, Has the owner consented to
the transfer?  If he have not, so long as this circumstance,
essential to a righteous transfer, is wanting, whatever other
circumstances exist, it matters not,-the taking of another's
property is theft.
2. By taking the property of another, by consent vi
lently obtained.
Such is the case in highway robbery.  Here, we wick
edly obtain control over a man's life, and then offer him
the alternative of death, or delivery of his property. Inasmuch as the consent is no more voluntary than if we tied
his hands, and took the money out of his pocket, the violation of property is as great. And, besides this, we assume
the power of life and death over an individual, over whom
we have no just right whatever. In this case, in fact, we
assume the unlimited control over the life and possessions
of another, and, on pain of death, oblige him to surrender
his property to our will. As, in this case, there is a double




ï~~238   MILES IN VHICB THE RIGHT OF PROPERTY
and aggravated violation of right, it is, min all countries, conside:ed deserving of condign punishment, and is generally
rendered a capital offence.
3. By consent fraudulently obtained, or cheating.
This may be of two kinds:
1. Where no equivalent is offered, as when a beggar
obtains money on false pretences.
2. Where the equivalent is different from what it purports to be; or where the consent is obtained by an immoral act on the part of him who obtains it. As this includes by far the greatest number of violations of the law
of property, it will occupy the remainder of this section,
and will require to be treated of somewhat at length.
We shall divide it into two parts:-1. Where the equivalent is material; 2. Where the equivalent is immaterial.
I. WHERE THE EQUIVALENT IS MATERIAL. This is of
two kinds:-1. Where the transfer is perpetual; 2. Where
the transfer is temporary.
FIRST.   Where the transfer of property on both sides is
perpetual. This includes the law of buyer and seller.
The principal laws of buyer and seller will be seen from
a consideration of the relation in which they stand to each
other. The seller, or merchant, is supposed to devote his
time and capital to the business of supplying his neighbors
with articles of use. For his time, risk, interest of money,
and skill, he is entitled to an advance on his goods; and
the buyer is under a correspondent obligation to allow that
advance, except in the case of a change in the market
price, to be noticed subsequently.
Hence, 1. The seller is under obligation to furnish goods
of the same quality as that ordinarily furnished at the same
prices. He is paid for his skill in purchasing, and of course
he ought to possess that skill, or to suffer the consequences.
If he furnish goods of this quality, and they are, so far as
his knowledge extends, free from any defect, he is under
obligation to do nothing more than to offer them. He is
under no obligations to explain their adaptation, and direct
the judgment of the buyer, unless by the law of benevolence. Having furnished goods to the best of his skill, and
of the ordinary quality, his responsibility ceases, and it is




ï~~MAY BE VIOLATED BY THE INDIVIDUAL.

239

the business of the buyer to decide whether the article is
adapted to his wants. If, however, the seller have purchased a bad article, and have been deceived, he has no
right to sell it at the regular price, on the ground that he
gave as much for it as for what should have been good.
The error of judgment was his, and in his own profession;
and he must bear the loss by selling the article for what it
is worth. That this is the rule, is evident from the con
trary case. If he had, by superior skill, purchased an
article at much less than its value, he would consider himse' entitled to the advantage, and justly. Where he is
entitled, however, to the benefit of his skill, he must, under
correspondent circumstances, suffer from the want of it.
Hence we say, that a seller is under obligation to furnish
goods at the market price, and of the market quality, but is
under no obligation to assist the judgment of the buyer,
unless the article for sale is defective, and then he is under
obligation to reveal it.
The only exception to this rule is, when, from the conditions of the sale, it is known that no guaranty is offered;
as when a horse is sold at auction, without any recommendation.  Here, every man knows that he buys at his own
risk, and bids accordingly.
2. Every one who makes it his business to sell, is not
only bound to sell, but is also at liberty to sell, at the market price. That he is bound to sell thus, is evident from
the fact that he takes every means to persuade the public
that he sells thus; he would consider it a slander were any
one to assert the contrary; and, were the contiary to be
believed, his custom would soon be ruined. Where a belief
is so widely circulated, and so earnestly inculcated by the
seller, he is manifestly under obligation to fulfil an expectation which he has been so anxious to create.
He is also at liberty to sell at the market price; that is,
as he is obliged to sell without remuneration, or even with
loss, if the article fall in price while in his possession, so he
is at liberty to sell it at above a fair remuneration, if the
price of the article advances. As he must suffer in case of
the fall of merchandise, he is entitled to the correspondent
gain, if r:.erchandise rises; and thus his chance on both




ï~~240   MODES IN WHICH THE RIGHT OF PROPERTY
sides is equalized. Besides, by allowing the price of at.
article to rise with its scarcity, the rise itself is in the enc
checked; since, by attracting an unusual amount of products to the place of scarcity, the price is speedily reduced
again to the ordinary and natural equilibrium of supply and
demand.
It should, however, be remarked, that this rule applies
mainly to those, whose occupation it is to traffic in the
article bought and sold. A dealer in china-ware is bound
to sell china-ware at the market price; but if a man insist
upon buying his coat, he is under no such obligation, for
this is not his business. Should he put himself to inconvenience by selling his apparel to gratify the whim of his
neighbor, he may, if he will, charge an extra price for this
inconvenience. The rule applies in any other similar case.
It would, however, become an honest man fairly to state
that he did not sell at the market price, but that he charged
what he chose, as a remuneration for his trouble.
3. While the seller is under no obligation to set forth
the quality of his merchandise, yet he is at liberty to do
so, confining himself to truth. He has, however, no right
to influence the will of the buyer, by any motives aside from
those derived from the real value of the article in question.
Thus, he has no right to appeal to the fears, or hopes,
or avarice, of the buyer. This rule is violated, when, in
dealings on the exchange, false information is circulated,
for the purpose of raising or depressing the price of stocks.
It is violated by speculators, who monopolize an article to
create an artificial scarcity, and thus raise the price, while
the supply is abundant. The case is the same, when a
salesman looks upon a stranger who enters his store, and
deliberately calculates how he shall best influence, and
excite, and mislead his mind, so as to sell the greatest
amount of goods at the most exorbitant profit. And, in
general, any attempt to influence the mind of the purchaser,
by motives aside from those derived from the true character
of the article for sale, are always doubtful, and generally
ficious.
It is in vain to reply to this, that if this were not done,
men could not support their families. We are not mquir




ï~~MAY BE VIOLATED BY THE INDIVIDUAL.

24

ng about the support of famihlies, but abc ut a question of
right. And it is obvious that, were this plea allowed, it
would put an end to all questions of morals; for there
never was an iniquity so infamous as not to find multitudes
who were ready to justify it on this plea. But we altogether deny the validity of the plea. Were men to qualify
themselves properly for their business, and to acquire and
exert a suitable skill in the management of it, that skill
being beneficially exerted for the community at large, men
would find it for their interest to employ it. He who understood his own profession well, and industriously and
honestly put his talents into requisition, never stood in need
of chicanery, in order to support either himself or his family.
These. remarks have been made with respect to the
seller. But it is manifest that they are just as applicable
to the buyer. Both parties are under equal y imperative
and correspondent obligations. If the seller be bound to
furnish an article of ordinary quality, and to sell it at the
market price, that is, if he be obliged to exert his skill for
the benefit of the buyer, and to charge for that skill and
capital no more than a fair remuneration, then the buyer is
under the same obligation freely and willingly to pay that
remuneration.  It is disgraceful to him, to wish the seller to
labor for him for nothing, or for less than a fair compensation. If the seller has no right by extraneous considerations
to influence the motives of the buyer, the buyer has no
right, by any such considerations, to influence the motives
of the seller. The buyer is guilty of fraud, if he underrate
the seller's goods, or by any of the artifices of traffic induces him to sell at less than a fair rate of profit. "'Tis
naught, 'tis naught, saith the buyer; but when he goeth h'
way, then he boasteth." Such conduct is as dishonest and
dishonorable now, as it was in the days of Solomon.
It has also been observed above, that when the seller
Knows of any defect in his product, he is bound to declare
it. The same rule, of course, applies to the buyer. If he
know that the value of the article has risen; without the
possibility of the owner's knowledge, he is bound to inform
him of this change in its value. The sale is, otherwise,
fraudulent.  Hence, all purchases arid sales affected in
01




ï~~24   MODES IN WHICH THE RIGHI OF PROPERTY
consequence of secret information, procured in advance of
our neighbor, are dishonest. If property rise in value by
the providence of God, while in my neignbor's pcssession,
that rise of value is as much his, as the property itself; and
I may as honestly deprive him of the one, without an
equivalent, as of the other.
The ordinary pleas, by which men excuse themselves for
violation of the moral law of property, are weak and wicked
rhus, when men sell articles of a different quality from
hat which their name imports-as when wines or liquors
are diluted or compounded; when the ordinary weight or
measure is curtailed; or where employers defraud ignorant
persons of their wages, as I am told is sometimes the case
with those who employ certain classes of laborers-it is
common to hear it remarked, "The competition is so great,
that we could sell nothing, unless we adopted these methods;"
or else, "The practice is universal, and if we did not do
thus, other persons would, and so the evil would not be
diminished."  To all this, it is sufficient to reply: The
law of God is explicit on this subject. "Thou shalt love
thy neighbor as thyself;" and God allows of no excuses for
the violation of his commands; "He hath shewed it unto
them; therefore they are without excuse."  These pleas
are either true or false. If false, they ought to be abandoned. If true, then the traffic itself must be given up; for
no man has any right to be engaged in any pursuit, in violation of the laws of God.
A bargain is concluded, when both parties have signified
to each other, their will to make the transfer; that is, that
each chooses to part with his own property, and to receive
the property of the other in exchange. Henceforth, all the
risk of loss, and all the chances of gain, are, of course,
mutually transferred; although  the  articles themselves
remain precisely as they were before. If a merchant buy
a cargo of tea; after the sale, no matter where the tea is,
the chances of loss or gain are his, and they are as much
his in one place as in another.
So, if the article, after the sale, have become injured,
before I take actual possession of it, I bear the loss; because, the right of ownership being vested in me, I could




ï~~MAY BE VIOLATED BY THE INDIVIDUAL

213

have removed it if I chose, and no one had a right, without
my direction, to remove it.
The only exception to this, exists in the case where, by
custom or contract, the obligation to deliver, is one of the
conditions of the sale. Here the seller, of course, charges
more for assuming the responsibility to deliver, and he is to
bear the risk, for which he is fairly paid. It is frequently
a question, When is the act of delivery completed?  This
must be settled by precedent; and can rarely be known in
any country, until a decision is had in the courts of law.
As soon as such a case is adjudicated, the respective
parties govern themselves accordingly.
SECONDLY, when the transfer of property is temporary.
In this case, the borrower pays a stipulated equivalent for
the use of it.
'hat he should do so is manifestly just, because the
property in the hands of the owner is capable of producing
an increase, and the owner, if he held it, we1d derive the
benefit of that increase. If he part with this benefit for
the advantage of another, it is just that the other should
allow him a fair remuneration. If the borrower could not,
after paying this remuneration, grow richer than he would
be without the use of his neighbor's capital, he would not
borrow. But, inasmuch as he, by the use of it, can be
benefited, after paying for the use, no reason can be conceived why he should not pay for it.
The remuneration paid for the use of capital, in the form
of money, is called interest; when in the form of land or
houses, it is called rent.
The principles on which the rate of this remuneration is
justly fixed, are these: The borrower pays, first, for the
use; and, secondly, for the risk.
1. For the use.
Capital is more useful, that is, it is capable of producing
a greater remuneration at some times than at others
Thus, a flour-mill, in some seasons, is more productive than
in others. Land, in some places, is capable of yielding a
greater harvest than in others. And thus, at different times,
the same property may be capable of bringing in a very
different income. And, in general, where the amount of




ï~~24'14  MODES IN WHICH TIHE RIGHT OF PROPERTY
capital to be loaned is great, and the number of those who
want to borrow, small, the interest will be low; and where
the number of borrowrs is great, and the amount of capital small, the rate of interest will be high. The reasons
of all this are too obvious to need illustration.
2. For the risk.
When an owner parts with his property, it is put under
the control of the borrower, and passes, of course, beyond
the control of the owner. Here, there arises a risk over
which he has no control. It varies with the character of
the borrower for prudence and skill, and with the kind of
business in which he is engaged. Property in ships is
exposed to greater risk than property in land. A man
would consider the chance of having his property returned
much better, if employed in the building of dwelling-houses,
than in the manufacture of gun-powder. Now, as all these
circumstances of risk may enter more or less into every loan,
it is evidentshat they must, in justice, vary the rate at
which a loan may be procured.
Hence, I think that the rate of interest, of every sort,
being liable to so many circumstances of variation, should
not, in any case, be fixed by law; but should be left, in
all cases, to the discretion of the parties concerned.
This remark applies as well to loans of rpney as to loans
of other property, because the reasons apply just as much,o these as to any other. If it be said, men may charge
exorbitant interest, I reply, so they may charge exorbitant
rent for houses, and exorbitant hire for horses. And, I
ask, how is this evil of exorbitant charges in other cases
remedied?  The answer is plain. We allow a perfectly
free competition, and then the man who will not loan his
property, unless at an exorbitant price, is underbidden,
and his own rapacity defeats and punishes itself.
And, on the contrary, by fixing a legal rate of interest,
we throw the whole community into the power of those
who are willing to violate the law. For, as soon as the
actual value of money is more than the legal value, those
who consider themselves under obligation to obey the laws
of the land, will not loan; for they can employ their
property to better advantage. Hence, if all were obedient




ï~~MAY BE VIOLATED BY THE INDIVIDUAL.

245

to the law, as soon as property arrived at this point of
value, loans would instantly and universally cease. But
as some persons are willing to evade the law, they will loan
at illegal interest; and, as the capital of those who are
conscientious, is withdrawn from the market, aid an artificial scarcity is thus produced, those who are not conscientious have it in their power to charge whatever they choose.
Again, when we pay for money loaned, we pay, first, for
the use, and, second, for the risk; that is, we pay literally
a premium of insurance. As both of these vary with difference of time, and with different individuals, there is a
double reason for variation in the rate of interest. When
we have a house insured, we pay only for the risk; and,
nence, there is here only a single cause of variation. But
while all governments have fixed the rate of interest by law,
they have never fixed the rate of insurance; which, being
less variable, is more properly subject to a fixed rule.
This is surely inconsistent; is it not also unjust?
Nevertheless, for the sake of avoiding disputes, and errors
of ignorance, it might be wise for society to enact, by law,
what shall be the rate of interest, in cases where no rate is
otherwise specified. This is the extent of its proper jurisdiction; and doing any thing further is, I think, not only
injurious to the interests of the community, but also a violation of the right of property. While, however, I hold
this to be true, I by no means hold that, the laws remaining as they are, any individual is justified in taking or giving
more than the legal rate of interest. When conscience
does not forbid, it is the business of a good citizen to obey
the laws; and the faithful obedience to an unwise law, is
generally the surest way of working its overthrow.
We shall now proceed to consider the laws which govern this mode of transfer of property.
The loan of money.
1. The lender is bound to demand no more than a fair
remuneration (or the use of his capital, and for the risk to
which it is exposed.
2. He is bound to make use of no unlawful means to
influence the decision of the borrower. The principles
here are the same as those which should govern the per21 *




ï~~'246  MODES IN WHICH THE RIGHT OF PROPERTY
manenii exchange of property. All rumors and false alarms,
and all combinations of capitalists to raise by a monopoly
the price of money, are manifestly dishonest; nor are they
the less so, because many persons may enter into them, or
because they have the skill or the power to evade the laws
of the land.
3. The borrower is bound to pay a just equivalent, as
I have stated above; and he is equally forbidden to use
any dishonest motives to influence the decision of the
lender.
4. Inasmuch as the risk of the property is one part of
the consideration for which the owner receives remunera
tion, and as this is in every case supposed to be a specified
quantity, the borrower has no right to expose the property
of another to any risk not contemplated in the contiact.
Hence, he has no right to invest it in a more hazardous
trade, or to employ it in a more hazardous speculation,
than that for which he borrowed it; and if he do, he is
using it in a manner for which he has paid no equivalent.
He is also under obligation to take all the care to avoid
losses which he would take if the property were his own;
and to use the same skill to conduct his affairs successfully..
5. He is also bound to repay the loan exactly according
to the terms specified in the contract. This requires that he
pay the full sum promised, and that he pay it precisely at
the time promised. A failure, in either case, is a breach
of the contract.
The question is often asked, whether a debtor is morally,iberated by an act of insolvency. I think not, if he ever
afterwards have the means of repayment. It may be said,
this is oppressive to debtors; but, we ask, is not the contrary principle oppressive to creditors; and are not the
rights of one party just as valuable, and just as much
rights, as those of the other?  It may also be remared,
that, were this principle acted upon, there would be fewer
debtors, and vastly fewer insolvents.  The amount of
money actually lost by insolvency, is absolutely enormous;
and it is generally lost by causeless, reckless speculation,
by childish and inexcusable extravagance, or by gambling
and urofligacy, which are all stimulated into activity by




ï~~MAY BE VIOLATED BY THE INDIVIDUA.
MAY BE VIOLATED BY THE INDIVIDUAL_.

247

the facility of credit, and the facility with which debts
may be cancelled by acts of insolvency. The more rigidly
contracts are observed, the more rapidly will the capital of
a country increase, the greater will be the inducements to
industry, and the stronger will be the barriers against extravagance and vice.
Of the loan of other property.
The principles which apply in this case are very similar
to those which have been already stated.
1. The lender is bound to furnish an article, which, so
far as he knows, is adapted to the purposes of the bor.
rower. That is, if the thing borrowed has any internal
defect, he is bound to reveal it. If I loan a horse to a
man who wishes to ride forty miles to-day, which I know
is able to go but thirty, it is a fraud. If I let to a man a
house which I know to be in the neighborhood of a nuisance, or to be, in part, uninhabitable from smoky chimneys, and do not inform him, it is fraud. The loss in the
value of the property is mine, and I have no right to transrer it to another.
2. So the lender has a right to charge the market price
arising from the considerations of use, risk, and variation
in supply and demand. This depends upon the same
principles as those already explained.
3. The borrower is bound to take the same care of the
property of another, as he would of his own; to put it to
no risk different from that specified or understood in the
contract; and to pay the price, upon the principle stated
above. Neither party has any right to influence the other
by any motives extraneous to the simple business of the
transfer.
4. The borrower is bound to return the property 1)aned,
precisely according to the contract. This includes both
time and condition. He must return it at the time speci
fled, and 'n the condition in which he received it, ordinary
wear and tear only excepted. If I hire a house for a year,
and so damage its paper and paint, that, before it can be
let again, it will cost half the price of the rent to put it in
repair, it is a gross fraud. I have, by negligence, or other
cause, defrauded the owner of half his rent. It is just as




ï~~248   MODES IN WHICH THE RIGHT OF PROPERTY
immoral as to pay him the whole, and then pick his pocket
of the half of what he had received.
The important question arises here, If a loss happen
while the property is in the hands of the borrower, on
whom shall it fall?  The principle I suppose to be this:
1. If it happen while the property is subject to the use
specified in the contract, the owner bears it; because it is
to be supposed that he foresaw the risk, and received remuneration for it. As he was paid for the risk, he, of
course, has assumed it, and justly suffers it.
2. If the loss happen in consequence of any use not
contemplated in the contract, then the borrower suffers it.
He having paid nothing for insurance against this risk,
there is nobody but himself to sustain it, and he sustains it
accordingly. Besides, were any other principle adopted, it
must put an end to the whole business of loaning; for no
one would part with his property temporarily, to be used
in any manner the borrower pleased, and be himself responsible for all the loss. If a horse. die while I am using
it well, and for the purpose specified, the owner suffers.
If it die by careless driving, I suffer the loss. He is bound
to furnish a good horse, and I a competent driver.
3. So, on the contrary, if a gain arise unexpectedly.
If this gain was one which was contemplated in the contract, it belongs to the borrower. If not, he has no equitable claim to it. If I hire a farm, I am entitled, without
any additional charge for rent, to all the advantages arising
from the rise in the price of wheat, or from my own skill
in agriculture. But if a mine of coal be discovered on the
farm, I have no right to the benefit of working it; for I
did not hire the farm for this purpose.
The case of insurance.
Here no transfer of property is made, and, of course,
nothing is paid for use. But the owner chooses to transfer
the risk of use from himself to others, and to pay, for their
assuming this risk, a stipulated equivalent. The loss to
society, of property ansured, is just the same as when it is
uninsured. A town s just as much poorer when property
is destroyed that is insured, provided it be insured in the
town, as though no insurance were effected. The only




ï~~MAY BE VIOLATED BY THE INDIVIDUAL.

'249

difference is, tl it the loss is equalized.  Ten men can
more easily replace one hundred dollars apiece, who have
nine hundred remaining, than the eleventh can replace his
whole property of one thousand.
The rule in this case is simple. The insured is bound
fully to reveal to the insurer every circumstance within his
knowledge, which could in any measure affect the value of
the risk; that is to say, the property must be, so far as
he knows, what it purports to be, and the risks none otliei
than such as he reveals them. If he expose the property
to other risks, the insurance is void; and the underwriter.
if the property be lost, refuses to remunerate him; and if
it be safe, he returns the premium. If the loss occur within the terms of the policy, the insurer is bound fully and
faithfully to make remuneration, precisely according to the
erms of the contract.
As to the rate of insurance, very little need be said. It
varies with every risk, and is made up of so many conflicting circumstances, that it must be agreed upon by the parties themselves. When the market in this species of traffic
is unrestrained by monopolies, the price of insurance, like
that of any other commodity, will regulate itself.
II. Next, where the equivalent is IMMATERIAL, as where
one party pays remuneration for some service rendered by
the other.
The principal cases here are these: That of master and
servant, and that of principal and agent.
1. Of master and servant.
1. The master is bound to allow to the servant a fair remuneration. This is justly estimated by uniting the considerations of labor, skill, and fidelity, varied by the rise and
lfall of the price of such labor in the market.  As this, however, would be liable to inconvenient fluctuation, it is generally adjusted by a rate agreed upon by the parties.
2. He is bound to allow him all the privileges to which
moral law or established usage entitles him, unless something
different from the latter has been stipulated in the contract;
and he is at liberty to require of him service upon the same
princ'ples.
3. The servantu  bound to perform the labor assigned

4




ï~~250   MODES IN W:ICH THE RIGHT OF PROPERTY
him by usage, or by contract (matters of conscience onti
excepted), with all the skill which he possesses, making the
interests of the employer his own. If either party fail,that is, if the master demand service for which he does not
render compensation, or if the servant receive wages for
which he does not render the stipulated equivalent,-there
is a violation of the right of property. Thus, also, there is
a violation of right, if the master do not fulfil the terms of
the contract, just as it was made; as, for instance, if he do
not pay a servant punctually. When the service is performed, the wages belong to the servant, and the master has no
more right to them than to the property of any one else.
Thus saith St. James: "The hire of your laborers that have
reaped your fields, that is kept back by fraud, crieth, and
the cry is come into the ears of the Lord of Sabaoth."
And, on the contrary, the servant is bound to use his whole
skill and economy in managing the property of his master;
and if he destroy it by negligence, or fault, he ought to
make restitution.
2. Of principal and agent.
It frequently happens that, in the transaction of business,
duties devolve upon an individual, which are to be discharged in different places at the same time. In other
cases, in consequence of the subdivision of labor, he requires
something to be done for him, which another person can do
better than himself. In both cases, either from necessity.
or for his own convenience and interest, he employs other
men as agents.
Agencies are of two kinds; first, where the principal
simply employs another to fulfil his own (that is, the principal's) will  Here, the principal's will is the rule, both as
to the object to be accomplished, and the manner in which.
and the. means whereby, it is to be accomplished.  Secondly. Where the principal only designates the objects to
be accomplished, reposing special trust in the skill and
fidelity of the agent as to the means by which it is to be
accomplished. Such I suppose to be the case in regard to
professional assistance.
The laws on this subject respect, first, the relation ex'sting betwee, the principal and the community; ana.




ï~~MAY BE VIOLATED BY THE INDIVIDUAL.

251

secondly, the relation existing between the principal and
agent.
I. The principal is bound by the acts of the agent, while
the agent is employed in the business for which the principal has engaged him; but he is responsible no farther.
Thus, it is known that a merchant employs a clerk tc
receive money on his account..For his clerk's transactions
in this part of his affairs he is responsible; but he would not
be responsible, if money were paid to his porter or coachman, because he does not employ them for this purpose
Hence, if the clerk be unfaithful, and secrete the money,
the merchant suffers; if the coachman receive the money,
and be unfaithful, the payer suffers. It is the merchant's
business to employ suitable agents; but it is the business
of his customers to apply to those agents only, whom he
has employed.
An important question arises here, namely, When is it to
oe understood that a principal has employed an agent? It
is generally held that, if the principal acknowledge himself
responsible for the acts of the agent, he is hereafter held to
be responsible for similar acts, until he gives notice to the
contrary.
II. Laws arising from the relation subsisting between the
principal and the agent.
1. The laws respecting compensation are the same as
those already specified, and, therefore, need not be repeated.
2. The agent is bound to give the same care to the
affairs of the principal, as to his own. He is another self,
and should act in that capacity. The necessity of this rule
is apparent from the fact, that no other rule could be devised, either,y which the one party would know what
justly to demand, or the other when the demands of justice
were fulfilled.
Hence, if an agent do not give all the care to the affairs
of his principal that he would do to his own, and loss occur,
he ought to sustain it. If a lawyer lose a cause through
negligence, or palpable ignorance, he ought, in justice, to
suffer the consequences.  He receives fees for conducting
the cause to the best of his ability, and, by undertaking to
conduc' it, puts it out of the power of the client to employ




ï~~252   MODES IN WHICH THE RIGHT OF PROPERTI
any one else. Thus, if he neglect it, and, by neglecting it
his client is worse off than if he had not undertaken it, he
accepts fees for really injuring his neighbor. He ought to
bear the loss which has occurred by his own fault.
A question frequently arises here of considerable importance. It is, When is he obliged to obey the instructions
of his principal; and when is he obliged to act without
regard to them?   Although this question does not come
aunder the right of property, it may be as well to notice it
here as any where else.
The question, I suppose, is to be answered by dec.ding
to which of the above specified kinds of agencies the case
to be considered belongs.
1. If it be simple agency, that is, where the agent undertakes merely to execute the will of the principal, and in
the manner, and by the means, specified by the principal,
ne must obey implicitly, (conscience only excepted,) unless
some fact material to the formation of a judgment has come
to light after giving the order, which, if known, would have
necessarily modified the intention of the principal. This is
the law of the military service. Here, even when the
reason for disobedience of orders is ever so clear, and an
agent disobeys, he does it at his own risk; and, hence, the
modifying facts should be obvious and explicit, in order to
justify a variation from the instructions.
2. When the agency is of the other kind, and the will
of the principal is only supposed to direct the end, while
the means and manner are to be decided upon by the professional skill of the agent, I suppose that the agent is not
bomund to obey the directions of his principal. He is supposed to know more on the subject, and to be better able
to decide what will benefit his principal, than the principal
himself; and he has no right to injure another man, even
it the other man desire it; nor has he a right to lend himself as an instrument by which another man, by consequence of his ignorance, shall injure himself.  Besides,
every man has a professional reputation to sustain, on
which his means of living depend. He has no right to
injure this, for the sake of gratifying another, especially
whoen, by so gratifying the other, he shall ruin himself also.




ï~~MAY BE VIOLATED BY THE INDIVIDUAL

A physician has no right to give his patient drugs which
will poison him, because a patient wishes it. A lawyer has
no right to bring a cause into court in such a manner as
will ensure the loss of it, because his client insists upon it.
The professional agent is bound to conduct the business of
his profession to the best of his ability. This is the end of
his responsibility. If it please his client, well; if not, the
relation must cease, and the principal must find another
agent.
A representative in Congress is manifestly an agent of
the latter of these two classes. He is chosen on account
of his supposed legislative ability. Hence, he is strictly a
professional agent; and, on these principles, he is under no
sort of obligation to regard the instructions of his constituents. He is merely bound to promote their best interests,
but the manner of doing it is to be decided by his superior
skill and ability.
But, secoindly, is he bound to resign his seat, if he differ
from them in opinion? This is a question to be decided
by the constitution of the country under which he acts.
Society, that is, the whole nation, have a right to form a
government as they will; and to choose representatives
during good behavior, that is, for as long a time as they
and their representatives entertain the same views; or, setting aside this mode for reasons which may seem good to
themselves, to elect them for a certain period of service.
Now, if they have chosen the latter mode, they have bound
themselves to abide. by it, and have abandoned the former.
If they elect him during pleasure, he is so elected. If they,
on the contrary, elect him for two years, or for six years,
he is so elected. And, so far as I can discover, here the
question rests. It is in the power of society to alter the
tenure of office, if they please; but, until it be altered,
neither party can claim any thing more or difei ent from
what that tenure actually and virtually expresses.

22




ï~~254 RIGHT OF PROPERTY AS VIOLATED BY SOC Er'!.
SECTION III.
THE RIGHT OF PROPERTY AS VIOLATeD BY SOCIETY.
I have already stated that, whatever a man possesses, he
passesses exclusively of every man, and of all men. He
has a right to use his property in such a manner as will
promote his own happiness, provided he do not inte-fere
with the rights of others. But with this right, society may
interfere, as well as individuals; and the injury is hele the
greater, inasmuch as it is remediless. In this world the
individual knows of no power superior to society, and from
its decisions, even when unjust, he has no appeal. A few
suggestions on this part of the subject, will close the present
chapter.
I have mentioned that the individual has a right to use
his property, innocently, as he will, exclusively of any man,
or of all men. It is proper to state here, that this right is
apparently modified by his becoming a member of society.
When men form a civil society, they mutually agree to confer upon the individual certain benefits upon certain conditions. But as these benefits cannot be attained without
incurring some expenses, as, for instance, those of courts of
justice, legislation, &c., it is just that every individual who
enters the society, and thus enjoys these benefits, should pay
his portion of the expense. By the very act of becoming a
member of society, he renders himself answerable for his
portion of that burden, without the incurring of which, society
could not exist. He has his option, to leave society, or to
join it. But if he join it, hlie must join it on the same conditions as others. He demands the benefit of laws, and of
protection; but he has no right to demand what other men
have purchased, unless he will pay for it an equitable price.
From these principles, it will follow, that society has a
natural right to require every individual to contribute his
portion of those expenses necessary to the existence of
society.
Besides these however, the members bf a society have




ï~~RIGHT OF PROPERTY AS VIOLATED BY SOCIE TY. '255
the power to agree together to contribute for objects which,
if not essential to the existence, are yet important to the
well-being of society. If they so agree, they are bound to
fulfil this agreement; for a contract between the individual
and society, is as binding as one between individual and
individual. Hence, if such an agreement be made, society
has a right to enforce it. This, however, by no means
decides the question of the original wisdom of any particular
compact; much less is it meant to be asserted, that the
individual is bound by the acts of a majority, when that
majority has exceeded its power. These subjects belong
to a subsequent chapter. What is meant to be asserted
here, is, that there may arise cases in which society may
rightfully oblige the individual to contribute for purposes
which are not absolutely necessary to the existence of
society.
The difference, which we wish to establish, is this: In
the case of whatever is necessary to the existence of society,
society has a natural right to oblige the individual to bear
his part of the burden; that is, it has a right over his
property to this amount, without obtaining any concession
on his part. Society has, manifestly, a right to whatever is
necessary to its own existence.
Whatever, on the other hand, is not necessary to the
existence of society, is not in the power of society, unless
it has been conferred upon it by the will of the individual.
That this is the rule, is evident from the necessity of the
case. No other rule could be devised, which would not
put the property of the individual wholly in the power of
society; or, in other words, absolutely destroy the liberty
of the individual.
If such be the facts, it will follow that society has a right
ver the property of the individual, for all purposes necessary to the existence of society; and, secondly, in all respects
in which the individual has conferred that power, but only
for the purpe&s for which it was conferred.
And hence, 1. It is the duty of the individual to hold his
property always subject to these conditions; and, for such
purposes, freely to contribute his portion of that expense
for which he, in common with others, is receiving an




ï~~256 RIGIHT OF PROPERTY AS VIOLATED BY SO( IETY.
equi valent. No one has any more right than another to
receive a consideration without making a remuneration.
2. The individual has a right to demand that no imposi-.
tions be laid upon him, unless they come under the one or
the other of these classes.
3. He has a right to demand, that the burdens of society
be laid upon individuals according to some equitable law
This law should be founded, as nearly as possible, upon
the princ ple, that each one should pay, in proportion to
the benefits which he receives from the protection of
society. As these benefits are either personal or pecuniary,
and as those which are personal are equal, it would seem
just that the variation should be in proportion to property.
If these principles be just, it is evident that society may
violate the right of individual property, in the following
ways:
1. By taking, through the means of government, which
s its agent, the property of the individual, arbitrarily, or
merely by the will of the executive. Such is the nature of
the exactions in despotic governments.
2. When, by arbitrary will, or by law, it takes the
property of the individual for purposes, which, whether
good or bad, are not necessary to the existence of society,
when the individuals of society have not consented that it
be so appropriated. This consent is never to be presumed,
except in the case of necessary expenditures, as has been
shown. Whenever this plea cannot be made good, society
has no right to touch the property of the individual, unless
it can show the constitutional provision. Were our government to levy a tax to build churches, it would avail nothing
to say; that churches were wanted, or that the good of
society demanded it; it would be an invasion of the right of
property, until the article in the constitution could be shown,
granting to the government power over property, for this
very purpose.
3. Society, even when the claim is just, may violate the
rights of the individual, by adopting an inequitable rule in
the d stribution of the public burdens. Every individial
has an equal right to employ his property unmolested, in
ust such mannel ai will innocently promote his own hap



ï~~RIGHT OF PiJoPFi1rv A1 VIOLArIEr B% SOCIETY. 257
piness. That is, it is to society a matter of indifference in
what way he employs it. Provided it be innocent, it does
not come within the view of society. Hence, in this
respect, all modes of employing it are equal. And the
only question to be considered, in adjusting the appropriation, is, How much does he ask society to protect? and by
this rule it should, as we have said before, be adjusted. If,
then, besides this rule, another be adopted; and an individual be obliged, besides his pro rata proportion, to bear a
burden levied on his particular calling, to the exemption of
another, he has a right to complain. He is obliged to bear
a double burden, and one portion of the burden is laid for
a cause over wh'zh society professes itself to have no jurisdiction.
4. Inasmuch as the value of property depends upon the
unrestrained use which I am allowed to make of it, for the
promotion of my individual happiness, society interferes
with the right of property, if it in any manner abridge any
of these. One man is rendered happy by accumulation,
another by   benevolence; one by    promoting  science,
another by promoting religion. Each one has a right to
use what is his own, exactly as he pleases. And if society
interfere, by directing the manner in which he shall appro
priate it, it is an act of injustice. It is as great a violation
of property, for instance, to interfere with the purpose of
the individual in the appropriation of his property for religious purposes, as it is to enact that a farmer shall keep but
three cows, or a manufacturer employ but ten workmen

22 *




ï~~258

CHAPTER THIRD.
JUSTICE AS IT RESPECTS CHARACTER.
CHARACTER is the present intellectual, social, and moral
condition of an individual. It comprehends his actual
acquisitions, his capacities, his habits, his tendencies, his
mora. feelings, and every thing which enters into a man's
state for the present, or his powers for attaining to a better
state in the future.
That character, in this sense, is by far the most important of all the possessions which a man can call his own, 's
too evident, to need discussion. It is the source of all the
he either suffers or enjoys here, and of all that he eithe
fears or hopes fbr hereafter.
If such be the fact, benevolence would teach us the
obligation to do all in our power to improve the character
of our neighbor. This is its chief office. This is the great
practical aim of Christianity. Reciprocity merely prohibits
the infliction of any injury upon the character of another.
The reasons of this prohibition are obvious. No man
can injure his own character, without violating the laws of
God, and also creating those tendencies which rbsult in
violation of the laws of man. He who, in any manner,
becomes voluntarily the cause of this violation, is a partaker,
-and, not unfrequently, the largest partaker,-in the
guilt. As he who tempts another to suicide is, in the sight
of God, guilty of murder, so he who instigates another to
wickedness, by producing those states of mind which necessarily lead to it, is, in the sight of God, held responsible, in
no shlight degree, for the result.
Again, consider the motives which lead men to injure
the character of each other. These are either pure malice;
oi reckless self-gratification,
First, malice. Some men so far transcend the ordinary




ï~~JUSTICE AS IT RESPECTS CHARACTER.

259

limits of human depravity, as to derive a truly fiend-like
pleasure from alluring and seducing from the paths of
virtue the comparatively innocent, and to exult over the
moral desolations which they have thus accomplished
" They will compass sea and land to make one proselyte,
and when he is made, they make him tenfold more the
child of hell than themselves." It is scarcely necessary to
add, that language has no terms of moral indignation that
are capable of branding, with adequate infamy, conduct so
intensely vicious. It is wickedness, without excuse, and
without palliation. Or, secondly, take the more favorable
cas. One man wishes to accomplish some purpose of
self-gratification, to indulge his passions, to increase his
power, or to feed his vanity; and, he proceeds to accomplish that purpose, by means of rendering another immortal
and accountable moral creature degraded for ever,-a
moral pest henceforth, on earth, and both condemned, and
the cause of condemnation to others, throughout eternity.
Who has given this wretch a right to work so awful a ruin
among God's creatures, for the gratification of a momentary
and an unholy desire? And will not the Judge of all,
when he maketh inquisition for blood, press to the lips of
such a sinner the bitterest dregs of the cup of trembling?
With this, all the teaching of the sacred Scriptures is
consonant. The most solemn maledictions in the Holy
Scriptures are uttered against those who have been the instruments of corrupting others. In the Old Testament,
Jeroboam is signalized as a sinner of unparalleled atrocity,
because he  ade Israel to sin. In the New Testament,
the judgment of the Pharisees has been already alluded to.
And, again, "Whosoever shall break the least of these
commandments, and shall teach men so, shall be called
least in the kingdom of heaven." By comparison with
the preceding verse, the meaning of this passage is seen to
be, that, as the doing and teaching the commandments of
God is the great proof of virtue, so the breaking them, and
the teaching others to break them, is the great proofC f
vice. And, in the Revelation, where God is represented as
taking signal vengeance upon Babylon, it is b cause " she
did corrupt the earth with her wickedness."




ï~~260      JUSTICE AS IT RESPECTS CHARACTER.
The moray precept on this subject, then, is briefly this
We are forbidden, for any cause, or under any pretence, or
in any manner, willingly to vitiate the character of anothei
This pn hibition may be violated in two ways:
1. By weakening the moral restraints of men.
2. By exciting their evil passions.
I. BY WEAKENING THE MORAL RESTRAINTS OF MEN.
It has been already shown, that the passions of men
were intended to be restrained by conscience; and that the
restraining power of conscience is increased by the doctrines and motives derived from natural and revealed religion. Whoever, therefore, in any manner, renders obtuse
the moral sensibilities of others, or diminishes the power
of that moral truth by which these sensibilities are rendered
operative, inflicts permanent injury upon the character of
his fellow-men. This also is done by all wicked example;
for, as we have seen before, the sight of wickedness weakens the power of conscience over us. It is done when,
either by conversation or by writing, the distinctions between right and wrong are treated with open scorn or covert
contempt; by all conduct calculated to render inoperative
the sanctions of religion, as profanity, or Sabbath breaking;
by ridicule of the obligations of morality and religion, under
the names of superstition, priestcraft, prejudices of educa
tion; or, by presenting to men such views of the character
of God as would lead them to believe that He cares very
little about the moral actions of his creatures, but is willing
that every one shall live as he chooses; and that, therefore,
the self-denials of virtue are only a form of gratuitous,
self-inflicted torture.
It is against this form  of moral injury that the young
need to be specially upon their guard. The moral seducer, if he be a practised villain, corrupts the principles of
his victim before he attempts to influence his or her practice. It is not until the moral restraints are silently removed, and the heart left defenceless, that he presents the
allurements of vice, and goads the passions to madness
His task is then easy. If he have succeeded in the first
effort, he will rarely fail in the second. Let every young
man, especially every young woman, beware of listening




ï~~JUSTICE AS IT RESPECTS CHARACTER.

'261

for a moment to any conversation, of which the object is,
to show that the restraints of virtue are unnecessary, or to
diminish, in aught, the reverence and obedience, which are
due from the creature to the law of the Creator.
II. We injure the characters of men BY EXCITING TO
ACTION THEIR EVIL DISPOSITIONS.
1. By viciously stimuluting their imaginations. No one
is corrupt in action, until he has become corrupt in imagination. And, on the other hand, he who has filled his imagi.
nation with conceptions of vice, and who loves to feast his
depraved mGral appetite with imaginary scenes of impurity,
needs but the opportunity to become openly abandoned.
Hence, one of the most nefarious means of corrupting men,
is to spread before them those images of pollution, by
which they will, in secret, become familiar with sin. Such
is the guilt of those who write, or pu blish, or sell, or lend,
vicious books, under whatever name or character, and of
those who engrave, or publish, or sell, or lend, or exhibit:
obscene or lascivious pictures. Few instances of human
depravity are marked by deeper atrocity, than that of an
author, or a publisher, who, from literary vanity, or sordid
love of gain, pours forth over society a stream of moral
pollution, either in prose or in poetry.
And yet, there are not only men who will do this, but,
what is worse, there are men, yes, and women, too, who,
if the culprit have possessed talent, will commend it, and
even weep tears of sympathy over the infatuated genius,
who was so sorely persecuted by that unfeeling portion of
the world, who would not consider talent synonymous with
virtue, and who could not applaud the effort of that ability
which was exerted only to multiply the victims of vice.
2. By ministering to the appetites of others. Such is
the relation of the power of appetite to that of conscience,
that, where no positive allurements to vice are set before
men, conscience will frequently retain its ascendency.
While, on the other hand, if allurement be added to the
power of appetite, reason and conscience prove a barrier
too feeble to resist their combined and viciour tendency
Hence, he who presents the allurements of rice before
others, who procures and sets before them the means of




ï~~"62

JUSTICE AS IT RESPECTb CHARACTER.

vicious gra tification, is, in a great degree, responsible for the
mischief which he produces. Violations of this law occur
in most cases of immoral traffic, as in the sale and manufacture of intoxicating liquors, the sale of opium to the
Chinese, &c. Under the same class, is also comprehended
the case of female prostitution.
3. By using others to minister to our vicious appetites.
We cannot use others as ministers to our vices, without rendering them corrupt, and frequently inflicting an incurable
wound upon their moral nature. For the sake of a base
and wicked momentary gratification, the vicious man willingly ruins for ever an immortal being, who was, but for
him, innocent; and, yet more, not unfrequently considers
this ruin a matter of triumph. Such is the case in seduction and adultery, and, in a modified degree, in all manner
of lewdness and profligacy.
4. By cherishing the evil passions of men. By passion, in distinction from appetite, I mean the spiritual in
opposition to the corporeal desires. It frequently happens,
Mnat we wish to influence men, who cannot be moved by
in appeal to their reason or conscience, but who can be
easily moved by an appeal to their ambition, their avarice,
their party zeal, their pride, or their vanity. An acquaintance with these peculiarities of individuals, is frequently
called, understanding human nature, knowing the weak
sides of men, and is, by many persons, considered the
grand means for great and masterly effect. But he can
have but little practical acquaintance with a conscience
void of offence, who does not instinctively feel that such
conduct is unjust, mean and despicable. It is accompisn
ing our purposes, by means of the moral degradation of
him of whom we profess to be the friends. It is manifestly doing a man a greater injury that simply to rob him.
If we stole his money, he would be injured only by being
made poorer. If we procure his services or his money in
this manner, we also make him poorer; and we besides
cultivate those evil dispositions, which already expose him
to sharpers; and also render nim more odious to the God
-fore whom he must shortly tand.
Nor do the ordinary excuses on this subject avail. It nay




ï~~JUSTICE AS IT RESPECTS CHARACTER.

263

ie said, men would not give to benevolent objects, but
from these motives. Suppose it true. What if they did
not? They would be as well off, morally, as they are now.
A man is no better, after having refused from avarice, who,
at length, gives from vanity. His avarice is no better, and
his vanity is even worse. It may be said, the cause of
benevolence could not be sustained without it. Then, 1
say, let the cause of benevolence perish. God never meant
one party of his creatures to be relieved, by our inflicting
moral injury upon another. If there be no other way of sustaining benevolence, God did not mean that benevolence
should be sustained. But it is not so. The appeal to men's
better feelings is the proper appeal to be made to men. It
will, when properly made, generally succeed; and if it do
not, our responsibility is at an end.
I cannot leave this subject, without urging it upon those
who are engaged in promoting the objects of benevolent associations. It seems to me, that no man has a right to
present any other than an innocent motive, to urge his
fellow-men to action. Motives derived from party zeal,
from personal vanity, from love of applause, however
covertly insinuated, are not of this character. If a man, by
exciting such feelings, sold me a horse at twice its value,
h, would be a sharper. If he excite me to give from the
same motives, the action partakes of the same character.
The cause of benevolence is holy: it is the cause of God.
It needs not human chicanery to approve it to the human
hcart. Let him who advocates it, therefore, go forth strong
in the strength of Him whose cause he advocates. Let him
rest his cause upon its own merits, and leave every man's
conscience to decide whether or not he will enlist himself
in its support. And, besides, were men conscientiously to
confine themselves to the merits of their cause, they would
much more carefully weigh their undertakings, before they
attempted to enlist others in support of them. Much of that
fanaticism, which withers the moral sympathies of man,
would thus be checked at the outset.




ï~~CHAPTER FOURTH.

OF JUSTICE AS IT RESPECTS REPUTATION.
IT has been already remarked, that every man is, by the
laws of his Creator, entitled to the physical results of his
labor; that is, to those results which arise from the operation
of those laws of cause and effect, which govern the material
on which he operates. Thus, if a man form several trees
into a house, the result of this labor, supposing the materials
and time to be his own, are his own also. Thus, again, if
a man study diligently, the amount of knowledge which he
gains is at his own disposal; and he is at liberty, innocently,
to use it as he will. And, in general, if a man be industrious, the immediate results of industry are his, and no one
has any right to interfere with them.
But these are not the only results. There are others,
springing from those laws of cause and effect, which govern
the opinions and actions of men towards each other, which
are frequently of as great importance to the individual, as
the physical results. Thus, if a man have built a house,
the house is his. But, if he have done it well, there arises,
in the minds of men, a certain opinion of his skill, and a
regard towards him on account of it, which may be of more
value to him than even the house itself; for it may be the
foundation of great subsequent good fortune. The industrious student is entitled, not merely to the use of that
knowledge which he has acquired, but also to the esteem
which the possession of that knowledge gives him among
men. Now, these secondary and indirect results, though
they may follow other laws of cause and effect, are yet as
tl iy effects of the original cause, that is, of the character
and actions of the man himself, and they as truly belong to
him, as the primary and direct results of which we have
before spoken.  And, hence, to diminish the esteem in




ï~~JUSTICE AS IT RESPEctS REPUTATION.

265

which a man is held by his fellows, to detract from the
reputation which he has thus acquired, is as great a violation
of justice, nay, it may be a far greater violation of justice,
than robbing him of money. It has, moreover, the additional
aggra vation of conferring no benefit upon the aggressor,
beyond that of the gratification of a base and malignant
passion.
But, it may be said, the man has a reputation greater
than he deserves, or a reputation for that which he does
not deserve. Have I not a right to diminish it to its true
level?
We answer, The objection proceeds upon the concession
that the man has a reputation. That is, men have such or
such an opinion concerning him. Now, the rule of property, formerly mentioned, applies here. If a man be in
possession of property, though unjustly in possession, this
gives to no one a right to seize upon that property for himself, or to seize it and destroy it, unless he can, himself,
show a better title. The very fact of possession bars every
other claimant, except that claimant whom the present possessor has defrauded. So, in this case, if this reputation injures
the reputation of another, the other has a right to set forth
his own claims; and any one else has a right, when prompted by a desire of doing justice to the injured, to state the
facts as they are;. but where this element of desire to do
justice does not enter, no man has a right to diminish the
esteem in which another is held, simply because he may
believe the other to have more than he deserves.
The moral rule, on this subject, I suppose to be this:
We are forbidden to utter any thing which will be injurious
to the reputation of another, except for adequate cause. I
say, for adequate cause, because occasions may occur, in
which it is as much our duty to speak, as it is at other times
our duty to be silent. The consideration of these cases will
be a subsequent concern. The precept, thus understood,
applies to the cases in which we speak either from no sufficient motive, or from a bad motive. It is merely an extension of the great principle of the law of reciprocity, which
commands us to have the same simple desire that every
other man should enjoy, unmolested, the esteem in which
23




ï~~266      JUSTICE "S IT RISPECTS REPUTATION.
he is held by men, that we have to enjoy, unmolec-ted, tht
same possession ourselves.
I do not here consider the cases in which we utter,
either wilfully or thoughtlessly, injurious falsehood respecting
another. In these cases, the guilt of lying is superadded
o that of slander. I merely here consider slander by itself;
being understood that, when what is asserted is false, it
nvolves the sin of lying, besides the violation of the law of
reciprocity, which we are here endeavoring to enforce.
The precept includes several specifications. Some of
them it may be important to enumerate.
I. It prohibits us from giving publicity to the bad actions
of men, without cause. The guilt here consists in causelessly giving publicity. Of course, it does not include
those cases in which the man himself gives publicity to his
own bad actions. He has himself diminished his reputation,
and his act becomes a part of public indiscriminate information. We are at liberty to mention this, like any other
fact, when the mention of it is demanded; but not to do it
for the sake of injuring him. So, whenever his bad actions
are made known by the providence of God, it comes under
the same rule. Thus, I may know that a man has acted
dishonestly. This alone does not give me liberty to speak
of it. But, if his dishonesty have been proved before a court
of justice, it then becomes really a part of his reputation,
and I am at liberty to speak of it in the same manner as of
any other fact. Yet even here, if I speak of it with pleasure, or with a desire of injury, I commit sin.
Some of the reasons for this rule, are the following:
1. The very act itself is injurious to the slanderer's own
moral character, and to that of him who lends himself to be
his auditor. Familiarity with wrong diminishes our abhor.
rence of it. The contemplation of it in others fosters the
spirit of envy and uncharitableness, and leads us, in the end
to exult in, rather than sorrow over, the faults of others.
2. In the present imperfect state, where every individual,
being fallible, must fail somewhere, if every one were at liberty to speak of all the wrong and all the imperfection of every
one whom he knew, *ciety would soon bome intolerable,
from the festering of universal ill-will. Wl at would be



ï~~JUSTICE AS IT RESPECTS REPUTATION.

267

come of families, of friendships, of communities, if iarents
and children, husbands and wives, acquaintances, neighbors,
and citizens, should proclaim every failing which they knew
or heard of, respecting each other? Now, there can no
medium be established between telling every thing, and
forbidding every thing to be told which is told without
adequate cause.
3. We may judge of the justice of the rule, by applying
it to ourselves. We despise the man who, either thoughtlessly or maliciously, proclaims what he considers, either
justly or unjustly, our failings. Now, what can be more
unjust or more despicable, than to do that which our own
conscience testifies to be unjust and despicable in others?
II. The same law forbids us to utter general conclusions
respecting the characters of men, drawn from particular
bad actions which they may have committed. This is
manifest injustice, and it includes, frequently, lying as well
as slander. A single action is rarely decisive of character,
even in respect to that department of character to which it
belongs. A single illiberal action does not prove a man to be
covetous, any more than a single act of charity proves him to
be benevolent. How unjust, then, must it be, to proclaim
a man destitute of a whole class of virtues, because of one
failure in virtue! How much more unjust, on account of
one fault, to deny him all claim to any virtue whatsoever!
Yet such is frequently the very object of calumny. And,
in general, this form of vice is added to that just noticed
Men first, in violation of the law of reciprocity, make public
the evil actions of others; and then, with a malignant power
of generalization, proceed to deny their claims, not only to
a whole class of virtues, but, not unfrequently, to all virtue
whatsoever. The reasons, in this case, are similar to those
just mentioned.
III. We are forbidden to judge, that is, to assign unnecessarily bad motive' to the actions of men. I say unnecessarily, for some actions are in their nature such, that
to presume a good motive is impossible.
This rule would teach us, first, to presume no unworthy
motive, when the action is susceptible of an innocent one.
And secondly, never to ascribe to an action which we




ï~~266      JUSTICE AS IT RESPECTS REPUTATION.
confes o be good, any other motive than that from whicn
it proisses to proceed.
This is the rule by which we are bound to be governed
in our own private opinions of men. And if, from any
circumstances, we are led to entertain any doubts of the
motives of men, we are bound to retain these doubts within
our own bosoms, unless we are obliged, for some sufficient
reason, to disclose them. But if we are obliged to adopt
this rule respecting our own opinions of others, by how
much more are we obliged to adopt it in the publication of
our opinions! If we are not allowed, unnecessarily, to
suppose an unworthy motive, by how much less are we
allowed to circulate it, and thus render it universally supposed! "Charity thinketh no evil, rejoiceth not in iniquity."
The reasons for this rule are obvious:
1. The motives of men, unless rendered evident by their
actions, can be known to God alone. They are, evidently,
out of the reach of man. In assigning motives unnecessarily, we therefore undertake to assert as fact, what we at
the outset confess that we have not the means of knowing
to be such; which is, in itself, falsehood: and we do all
this for the sake of gratifying a contemptible vanity, or a
wicked envy; or, what is scarcely less reprehensible, from
a thoughtless love of talking.
2. There is no offence by which we are excited to a
livelier or more just indignation, than by the misinterpretation of our own motives. This quick sensitiveness in ourselves, should admonish us of the guilt which we incur,
when we traduce the motives of others.
IV. By the same rule, we are forbidden to lessen the
estimation in which others are held, by ridicule, mimicry,
or by any means by which they are brought into contempt.
No man can be greatly respected by those to whom he is
the frequent subject of laughter. It is but a very imperfect
excuse for conduct of this sort, to plead that w, do not
mean any harm. What do we mean?      Surely, reasonable
oeings should be prepared to answer this question. Were
the witty calumniator to stand concealed, and hear himself
made the subject of remarks precisely similar to those in
which I e indulges respecting others, he would have a very




ï~~JUSTICE AS IT RESPECTS REPUTATION.

269

definite conception of what others mean. Let him, then;
carry the lesson home to his own bosom.
Nor is this evil the less for the veil under which it is
frequently aid hypocritically hidden. Men and women
propagate slander under the cover of secrecy, supposing
that, by uttering it under this injunction, the guilt is of
course removed. But it is not so. The simple question
is this: Does my duty either to God or to man require me
to publish this, which will injure another?  If it do, publish
it wherever that duty requires, and do it fearlessly. If it
do not, it is just as great guilt to publish it to one as to
another. We are bound, in all such cases, to ask ourselves
the question, Am I under obligation to tell this fact to this
person? If not, I am under the contrary obligation to be
silent. And still more. This injunction of secrecy is generally nothing better than the mere dictate of cowardice.
We wish to gratify our love of detraction, but are afraid of
the consequences to ourselves. We therefore converse
under this injunction, that the injury to another may be
with impunity to ourselves. And hence it is, that in this
manner the vilest and most injurious calumnies are generally
circulated.
And, lastly, if all this be so, it will be readily seen that
a very large portion of the ordinary conversation of persons,
even in many respects estimable, is far from being innocent. How very common is personal character, in all its
length and breadth, the matter of common conversation!
And in this discussion, men seem to forget that they are
under any other law than that which is administered by a
judge and jury. How commonly are characters dissected,
with apparently the only object of displaying the power
of malignant acumen possessed by the operator, as though
another's reputation were made for no other purpose than
the gratification of the meanest and most unlovely attributes
of the human heart! Well may we say, with the apostle
James, "If any man offend not in word, the same is a
perfect man, able to bridle the whole body." Well may
we tremi.e before the declaration of the blessed Savior:
"For every idle word that men speak, they shall give an
iccount in the day of judgment."
23*




ï~~270     JUSTICE AS IT RESPECTS REPUATION.
The fodlowing ext act from Bishop Wilson, on this sub.
ject, breat~nes the spirit of true Christian philanthropy: "It
is too true, that some evil passion or other, and to gratify
our corruption, is the aim of most conversations. We love
to speak of past troubles; hatred and ill-will make us take
pleasure in relating the evil actions of our enemies. We
compare, with some degree of pride, the advantages which
we have over others. We recount, with too sensible a
pleasure, the worldly happiness which we enjoy. This
strengthens our passions, and increases our corruption.
God grant that I may watch against a weakness that has
such evil consequences! May I never hear, and never
repeat with pleasure, such things as may dishonor God, hurt
my own character, or injure my neighbor!"-Bishop Wilon's Sacra Privata.
The precepts of the Scriptures, on this subject, are
numerous and explicit. It will be necessary here to refer
only to a few, for the sake of illustrating their general tendency: "Judge not, that ye be not judged: for with what
judgment ye judge, ye shall be judged; and with what
measure ye mete, it shall be measured to you again. And
why beholdest thou the mote that is in thy brother's eye,
but considerest not the beam that is in thine own eye?"
Matthew vii, 1-5. "Let all bitterness, and wrath, and
clamor, and evil-speaking, be put away from you."  Ephe.sians iv, 31. "Speak evil of no man."  Titus iii, 2. "He
that will love life, and see good days, let him refrain his
tongue from evil." 1 Peter iii, 10.
See also James, third chapter, for a graphic delineation
of the miseries produced by the.inlicensed use of the
tongue.
Secondly. I have thus far considered the cases in which
silence, respecting the evil actions of others, is our duty.
It is our duty, when we have no just cause, either for
speaking at all, or for speaking to the particular person
whom we address. But where there is a sufficient cause,
we are under an equally imperative obligation to speak,
wherever and whenever that cause shall demand it. The
common fault of men is, that they speak when they should
be silent, and are silent only when they should speak.




ï~~JUSTICE AS IT RESPECTS REPUt'ATION.

271

The plait. distinction, in this case, is the following: We
are forbidden, causelessly, to injure another, even if he have
done wrong. Yet, whenever justice can be done, or innocence protected, in no other manner than by a course which
must injure him, we are under no such prohibition. No
man has a right to expect to do wrong with impunity;
much less has he a right to expect that, in order to shield
him from the just consequences of his actions, injustice
should be done to others, or that other men shall, by silence,
deliver up the innocent and unwary into his power.
The principle by which we are to test our own motives,
in speaking of that which may harm others, is this: When
we utter any thing which will harm another, and we do it
either without cause, or with pleasure, or thoughtlessly, we
are guilty of calumny. When we do it with pain and sorrow for the offender, and from the sincere motive of protecting the innocent, of promoting the ends of public justice, or
for the good of the offender himself, and speak of it only to
such persons, and in such manner, as is consistent with these
ends, we may speak of the evil actions of others, and yet
be wholly innocent of calumny.
We are therefore bound to speak of the faults of others,
1. To promote the ends of public justice. He who conceals a crime against society, renders himself a party to
the offence. We are bound here, not merely to speak of
it, but also to speak of it to the proper civil officer, in
order that it may be brought to trial and punishment. The
ordinary prejudice against informing is unwise and immoral.
He who, from proper motives, informs against crime, performs an act as honorable as that of the judge who tries the
cause, or of the juror who returns the verdict. That this
may be done from improper motives, alters not the case
A judge may hold his office for the love of money, but this
does not mnake the office despicable.
2. To protect the innocent. When we are possessed
of a knowledge of certain facts inm a man's history, which,
if known to a third person, would protect him from important injury, it may frequently be our duty to put that
person on his guard. If A knows that B, under the pretence )f religion, is insinuating himself into the good opin



ï~~272      JUSTICE AS IT RESPECTS REPUTATION.
ion of C, for the purpose of gaining control over his property, A is bound to put C upon his guard. If I know
that a man who is already married, is paying his addresses
to a lady in another country, I am bound to give her the
information. So, if I know of a plan laid for the purpose
of seduction, I am bound to make use of that knowledge
to defeat it. All that is required here, is, that I know.what I assert to be fact; and that I use it simply for the
purposes specified.
3. For the good of the offender himself. When we
know of the crimes of another, and there is some person
-for instance, a parent, a guardian, or instructor-who
might, by control or advice, be the means of the offender's
reformation, it is our duty to give the necessary information.
It is frequently the greatest kindness that we can manifest
to both parties. Were it more commonly practised, the
allurements to sin would be much less attractive, and the
hope of success in correcting the evil habits of the young,
much more encouraging. No wicked person has a right
to expect that the community will keep his conduct a
secret from those who have a right specially to be informed
of it. He who does so is partaker in the guilt.
4. Though we may not be at liberty to make public the
evil actions of another, yet no obligation exists to concea
his fault by maintaining towards him our formes habits of
intimaiy. If we know him to be unworthy of our confidence or acquaintance, we have no right to act a lie, by
conducting towards him, in public or in private, as though
he were worthy of it. By associating with a man, we give
to the public an 4ssurance, that we know of nothing to
render him unworthy of our association. If we falsify
this assurance, we are guilty of deception, and of a deception by which we benefit the wicked at the expense of
the innocent, and, so far as our example can do it, place
the latter in the power of the former. And still more, if
we associate, on terms of voluntary intimacy, with persons
of known bad character, we virtually declare that such
offences constitute no reason why the persons in question
are not good enough associates for us. We thus virtually
become the patrons of their c4 me.




ï~~JUSTICE AS IT RESPECTS REPU rATION.

273

5. From what has been remarked, we see what is the:ature of an historian's duty. He has to do with facts
which the individuals themselves have made public, or
which have been made public by the providence of God.
He records what has already been made known. What
has not been made known, therefore, comes not within
his province; but whatever has been made known, comes
properly within it. This latter he is bound to use, without
either fear, favor or afifction. If, from party zeal or sectarian bigotry, or individual partiality, he exaggerate, or conceal, or misrepresent, if he " aught extenuate, or set down
aught in malice," he is guilty of calumny of the most inexcusable character. It is calumny perpetrated deliberately, under the guise of impartiality, ana perpetrated in a.orm intended to give it the widest publicity and the most
permanent duration.
These remarks have had respect, principally, to the publication of injurious truth or falsehood, by conversation.
But it will be immediately seen that they apply, with additional force, to the publication of whatever is injurious
by the press. If it be wrong to injure my neighbor's reputation within the limited circle of my acquaintance, how
much more wrong must it be to injure it throughout a
nation! If it be, by universal acknowledgment, mean, to
underrate the talents or vilify the character of a personal
rival, how much more so, that of a political opponent!
If it would be degrading in me to do it myself, by how
much is it less degrading to cause it to be done by others,
and to honor or dishonor with my confidence, and reward
with political distinction, those who do it? Because a
man is a political opponent, does he cease to be a creature
of God; and do we cease to be under obligations to obey
the law of God in respect to him? or rather, I might ask,
do men think that political collisions banish the Deity from
the throne of the universe?  Nor do these remarks apply
to political dissensions alone. The conductor of a public
press possesses nolgreater privileges than any other man,
nor has he any more right than any other man, to use, or
suffer to be used, his press, for the sake of gratifying personal pique, or avenging indivii al wrong, or holding up




ï~~274     JUSTICE AS IT RESPECTS REPUTATION.
individuals, without trial, to publc scorn. Crime against
society is to be punished by society, and by society alone;
and he who conducts a public press has no more right,
because he has the physical power, to inflict pain, than any
other individual. If one man may do it because he has a
press, another may do it because he has muscular strength;
and thus, the government of society is brought to an end.
Nor has he even a right to publish cases of individual vice,
unless the providence of God has m-de them public before
While they are out of sight of the public, they are out of
his sight, unless he can show that he has been specially
appointed to perform this service.




ï~~CLASS FIRST
DUTIES TO MEN, AS MEN.
VERACITY.
EVERY individual, by necessity, stands in most important
relations, both to the past and to the future. Without a
knowledge of what has been, and of what, so far as his
fellow-men are concerned, will be, he can form no decision
in regard to the present. But this knowledge could never
be attained, unless his constitution were made to correspond with his circumstances. It has, therefore, been
made to correspond.   There is, on the one hand, in
men, a strong & priori disposition to tell the truth; and it
controls them, unless some other motive interpose; and
there is, on the other hand, a disposition to believe what
is told, unless some counteracting motive is supposed to
operate.
Veracity has respect to the PAST AND PRESNT, f to
the FUTURE. We shall consider them separately.




ï~~iT6

CHAPTER FIRST.
VERACITY AS IT RESPECTS THIE PAST AND PRJSENT
VERACITY, in this sense, always has respect to a fact,
that is, to something done, or to something which we be
lieve to be doing.
Moral truth consists in our intention to convey to another,
to the best of our abihlity, the conception of a fact, exactly
as it exists in our own minds.
Physical truth consists in conveying to another the con
ception of a fact, precisely as it actually exists, or existed.
These two, it is evident, do not always coincide.
I may innocently have obtained an incorrect conception
of a fact myself, and yet may intend to convey it to another
precisely as it exists in my own mind. Here, then, is a
moral truth, but a physical untruth.
Or, again, I may have a correct conception of a fact,
supposing it to be an incorrect one, but may convey it to
another, with the intention to deceive. Here, then, is a
moral falsehood, and a physical truth. Pure truth is communicated, only, when I have a correct conception of a
fact, and communicate it, intentionally, to another, precisely
as it exists in my own mind.
The law on this subject demands, that, when we profess
to convey a fact to another, we, to the best of our ability,
convey to him the impression which exists in our own
minds. This implies, first, that we convey the impression
which exists, and not another; and, secondly, that we.convey that impression, without diminution or exaggeration.
[n other words, we are obliged, in the language of jurisprudence, to tell the truth, the whole truth, and nothing but
the truth.
This law, therefore, forbids,1. The utterance, as truth, of what we know to be /false.




ï~~VERACITY AS IT RESPECTS, ETC.

277

I Ray the utterance as truth, for we sometimes imagine
cases, for the sake of illustration, as min parables or fictitious
writing, where it is known beforehand, that we merely
address the imagination. Since we utter t as fiction, and
do not wish it to be believed, there is no alsehood if it be
not true.
2. Uitering as truth, what we do not know to be true.
Many things which men assert they cannot know to be
true; such, for instance, are, in many cases, our views of
the motives of others. There are many other things which
may be probable, and we may be convinced that they are
so, but of which we cannot arrive at the certainty. There
are other things which are merely matters of opinion, concerning which every several man may hold a different
opinion. Now, in any such case, to utter as truth what we
cannot know, or have not known to be truth, is falsehood.
If a man utter any thing as truth, he assumes the responsibility of ascertaining it to be so. If he, who makes the
assertion, be not responsible, where shall the responsibility
rest? And, if any man may utter what he chooses, under
no responsibility, there is the end of all credibility.
But, it will be said, are we never to utter any thing
which we do not know to be true?   I answer: we are
never to utter as truth what we do not know to be true.
Whatever is a matter of probability we may utter as a matter of probability; whatever is -a matter of opinion, we may
state as a matter of opinion. If we convey to another a
conception as true, of which we have only the impression
of probability, we convey a different conception from that
which exists in our own minds, and of course we do, in
fact, speak falsely.
3. Uttering what may be true in fact, but uttering it in
such a manner, as to convey a false impression to the
hearers.
As, a. By exaggerating some or all of the circumstances
attendant upon the facts.
b. By extenuating some or all of the circumstances attendant upon the facts.
c. By exaggerating some, and extenuating others.
d. By stating the facts just as they existed, but so ar24




ï~~i78

VERACITY AS IT LESPECTS

ranging them as to leave a false impression upon the hea.
As, for instance, I might say, A entered B's room, and  f"
it at ten o'clock; within five minutes after he left it, B alscoveed that his watch had been stolen. Now, although I
do not say that A stole B's watch, yet, if I intentionally so
arrange and connect these facts as to leave a false impression upon the mind of the hearer, I am guilty of falsehood.
This is a crime to which pleaders and partial historians, and
all prejudiced narrators, are specially liable.
S4. As the crime, here considered, consists in making a
false impression, with intention to deceive; the same effect
may be produced by the tones of the voice, a look of the
eye, a motion of the head, or any thing by which the mind
of another may be influenced. The same rule, therefore,
applies to impressions made in this manner, as to those
made by words.
5. As this rule applies to our intercourse with men as
intelligent agents, it applies to our intercourse with men
under all the possible relations of life. Thus, it forbids
parents to lie to children, and children to lie to parents;
instructors to pupils, and pupils to instructors; the old to
the young, and the young to the old; attorneys to jurors,
and jurors to attorneys; buyers to sellers, and sellers to
buyers. That is, the obligation is universal, and cannot be
annulled, by any of the complicated relations in which men
stand to each other.
Nor can it be varied, by the considerations, often introduced, that the person with whom we are conversing has
no right to know the truth. This is a sufficient reason why
we should not tell the truth, but it is no reason why we
should tell a falsehood. Under such circumstances, we are
at liberty to refuse to reveal any thing, but we are not at
liberty to utter what is false.
The reason for this, is the followinmg: The obligation to veracity does not depend upon the right of the inquirer to know
the truth. Did our obligation depend upon this, it would
vary with every person with whom we conversed; and, in
every case before speaking, we should be at liberty to
measure the extent of our neighbcr's right, and to tell him
truth or falsehood accor dingly.  And, inasmuch as the




ï~~THE PAST AND PRESENT.

279

peison whom we address, would never know at what rate
we estimated his right; no one would know how much to
believe, any more than we should know how much truth
we were under obligation to tell. This would at once destroy every obligation to veracity. On the contrary, inasmuch as we are under obligation to utter nothing but the
truth in consequence of our relations to God, this obligation
is never affected by any of the circumstances under which
we are called upon to testify. Let no one, therefore,
excuse himself, on the ground that he tells only innocent
lies. It cannot be innocent to do that which God has forbidden. " Lie not one to another, brethren, seeing ye have
put off the old man with his deeds."
That obedience to this law is demanded by the will of
God, is manifest from several considerations:
1. We are created with a disposition to speak what is
true, and also to believe what is spoken. The fact that we
are thus constituted, conveys to us an intimation that the
Creator wills us to obey this constitution. The intention
is as evident as that which is manifested in creating the eye
for light, and light for the eye.
2. We are created with a moral constitution, by which
(unless our moral susceptibility shall have been destroyed)
we suffer pain whenever we violate this law, and by which
also we receive pleasure whenever, under circumstances
which urge to the contrary, we steadfastly obey it.
3. We are so constituted that obedience to the law of
veracity is absolutely necessary to our happiness. Were
we to lose either our feeling of obligation to tell the truth,
or our disposition to receive as truth whatever is told to us,
there would at once be an end to all science and all knowledge, beyond that which every man had obtained by his
own personal observation and experience. No man could
profit by the discoveries of his contemporaries, much less by
the discoveries of those men who have gone before him.
Language would be useless, and we should be but little removed from the brutes. Every one must be aware, upon
the slightest reflection, that a community of entire liars could
not exist in a state of society. The effects of such a course




ï~~280

VERACITY AS IT RESPECTS

of conduct upon the whole, show us what is the will of Goo
in the individual case.
4. The will of God is abundantly made known to us in
the holy Scriptures. I subjoin a few examples:
"Thou shalt not bear false witness against they neighbor."  Ex. xx, 16. " Lying lips are an abomination to
the Lord."  Prov. vi, 16. "Keep thy tongue from evil,
and thy lips that they speak no guile." Psalm xxxiv, 13
Those that speak lies are called children of the devil, that
is, followers, imitators of the actions of the devil. John viii,
44. See also he cases of Ananias and Sapphira, and of
Gehazi. Acts v, and 2 Kings v, 20-27. "All liars
shall have their portion in the lake that burneth with fire
and brimstone."  Rev. xxi, 8. "There shall in no wise
enter therein (into heaven) any thing that maketh a lie."
lbid, verse 27.
From what has been said, the importance of strict adherence to veracity is too evident to need further remark,
I will, however, add, that the evil of falsehood in small
matters, in lies told to amuse, in petty exaggerations, and
min complimentary discourse, is not by any means duly estimated. Let it be always borne in mind, that he who
knowingly utters what is false, tells a lie; and a lie, whether
white, or of any other color, is a violation of the command
of that God by whom we must be judged. And let us also
remember that there is no vice which, more easily than this,
stupifies a man's conscience. He who tells lies frequently,
will soon become an habitual liar; and an habitual liar will
soon lose the power of readily distinguishing between the
conceptions of his imagination and the recollections of his
memory. I have known a few persons, who seemed to
have arrived at this most deplorable moral condition. Let
every one, therefore, beware of even the most distant approaches to this detestable vice. A volume might easily be
written on the misery and loss of character which have
grown out of a single lie; and another volume of illustrations of the moral power which men have gained by means
of no other prominent attribute than that of bold, unshrinking
veracity.




ï~~THE PAST AND PRESENT.

28

If lyi:g be thus pernicious to ourselves, how wicked must
it be to teach it, or specially to require it of others! What
slall we say, then, of parents, who, to accomplish a momentary purpose, will not hesitate to utter to a child the
most flagitious falsehoods? Or what shall we say of those
heads of families, who direct their children or servants deliberately to declare that they are not at home, while they
are quietly sitting in their parlor or their study? What
right has any one, for the purpose of securing a momentary
convenience, or avoiding a petty annoyance, to injure for
ever the moral sentiments of another? How can such a
man or woman expect to hear the truth from those whom
they have deliberately taught to lie?  The expectation is
absurd; and the result will show that such persons, in the
end, drink abundantly of the cup which they themselves
have mingled. Before any man is tempted to lie, let him
remember that God governs this universe on the principles
of veracity, and that the whole constitution of things is so
arranged as to vindicate truth, and to expose falsehood.
Hence, the first lie always requires a multitude of lies to
conceal it; each one of which plunges the criminal into
more inextricable embarrassment; and, at last, all of them
will combine to cover him with shame. The inconvenienc(s
of truth, aside from the question of guilt and innocence, ai e
infinitely less thin the inconveniences of falsehood.

24 *




ï~~2S2

CHAPTER SECOND.
VERACITY IN RESPECT TO THE FUTURE.
THE fitur? is, within some conditions, subject to our
power. We may, therefore, place ourselves under moral
obligation s to act, within those conditions, in a particular
manner. When we make a promise, we voluntarily place
ourselves under such a moral obligation. The law of veracity obliges us to fulfil it.
This part of the subject includes promises and contract,
I. Of PROMISES.
In every promise, two things are to be considered: the
intention and the obligation.
1. The intention. The law of veracity, in this respect,
demands that we convey to the promisee the intention as it
exists in our own minds. When we inform another that
we intend to do a service for him to-morrow, we have nr
more right to lie about this intention than about any other
matter.
2. The obligation. The law of veracity obliges us to
fulfil the intention just as we made it known. In other
words, we are under obligation to satisfy, precisely, the expectation which we voluntarily excited. The rule of
Dr. Paley is as follows: "A promise is binding in the sense
in which the promiser supposed the prornisee to receive it."
The modes in which promises may be violated, and the
reasons for believing the obligation to fulfil promises to be
enforced by the law of God, are so similar to those men'ioned in the preceding chapter, that I will not repeat
them.
I therefore proceed to consider in what cases promises
are not binding. The following are, I think, among the
most important:
Promises are not binding,



ï~~VERACITY IN RESPECT TO THE FUTURE.

283

1. When the performance is impossible. We cannot be
under obligation to do what is plainly out of our power.
The moral character of such a promise, will, however, vary
with the circumstances under which the proinise was made.
If I knew nothing of the impossibility, and honestly expressed an intention which I designed to fulfil, I am, at the
b)ar of conscience, acquitted. The providence of God has
interfered with my intention, and I am not to blame. If,
on the other hand, I knew of the impossibility, I have violated the law of veracity. I expressed an intention which
I did not mean to fulfil. I am bound to make good to the
other party all the loss which he may have sustained by
my crime.
2. When the promise is unlawful. No man can be
under obligation to violate obligation; for this would be to
suppose a man to be guilty for not being guilty. Much
less, can he be under obligation to violate his obligations to
God. Hence, promises to lie, to steal, or in any manner
to violate the laws of society, are not binding.  And the
duty of every man, who has placed himself under any such
obligation, is, at once, to confess his fault, to declare himself
free from his engagement, and to endeavor to persuade
others to do the same. Here, as in the former instance,
there are two cases. Where the unlawfulness was not
known, the promiser is under no other obligation than that
of informing the promisee of the facts as soon as possible.
Where the unlawfulness was known to the promiser, and
not to the promisee, I think that the former is bound to mak"
good the loss to the latter, if any occur. When it is knows
to both parties, either is at liberty to disengage himself, and
neither is under any obligation to make any restitution; for
the fault is common to both, and each should bear his
own share of the inconvenience.
3. Promises are not binding where no expectaton is voluntarily excited by the promiser. He is bound only to fulfil
the expectation which he voluntarily excites; and if he have
excited none, he has made no promise. If A tell B that
lie shall. give a horse to C, ana B, without A's knowledge
or consent, inform C of it, A is not bound. But, if h'




ï~~284      VERACITY IN RESPECT TO THE FUTURE.
directed B to give the information, he is as much bound
as though he informed C himself.
4. Promises are not binding when they are known 1y both
parties to proceed upon a condition, which condition is subsequently, by the promiser, found not to exist. As, if A
promise to give a beggar money on the faith of his story,
and the story be subsequently found to be a fabrication, A,
in such a case, is manifestly not bound.
5. As the very conception of a promise implies an obligation entered into between two intelligent moral agents,
I think there can be no such obligation entered into where
one of the parties is not a moral agent. I do not think we
zan properly be said to make a promise to a brute, nor to
violate it. I think the same is true of a madman. Never.
theless, expediency has, even in such cases, always taugh
the importance of fulfilling expectation which we volun
tarily excite. I think, however, that it stands on the
ground of expediency, and not of obligation. I do not
suppose that any one would feel guilty for deceiving a madman, in order to lead him to a madhouse.
These seem to me to be the most common cases in
which promises are not binding. The mere inconvenience
to which we may be exposed by fulfilling a promise, is not
a release. We are at liberty, beforehand, to enter into the
obligation, or not. No man need promise unless he please
but, having once promised, he is holden until he be morally
liberated. Hence, as, after the obligation is formed, it
cannot be recalled, prudence would teach us to be ex
tremely cautious in making promises. Except in cases
where we are, from long experience, fully acquainted with
all the ordinary contingencies of an event, we ought never
to make a promise without sufficient opportunity for reflection. It is a good rule, to enter into no important engagement on the same day in which it is first presented to our
notice. And I believe that it will be generally found, that
those who are most careful in promising, are the most conscientious in performing; and that, on the contrary, those
who are willing, on all occasions, to pledge themselves on
the instant, have very little difficulty in violating their en7agei nents with correspondent houghtlessness.




ï~~VERACITY IN RESPECT TO THE FUTURE.

285

OF CONTRACTS.
The peculiarity of a contra t is, that it is a mutual promise: that is, we promise to do one thing, on the condition
that another person does another.
The rule of interpretation, the reasons for its obligatoriness, and the cases of exception to the obligatoriness, are
the same as in the preceding cases, except that it has a
specific condition annexed, by which the obligation is
limited.
Hence, after a contract is made, while the other party
performs his part, we are under obligation to perform  out
part; but, if either party fail, the other is, by the failure
of the condition essential to the contract, liberated.
But this is not all. Not only is the one party liberated,
by the failure of the other party to perform his part of the
contract; the first has, moreover, upon the second, a claim
for damages to the amount of what hlie may have suffered
by such failure.
Here, however, it is to be observed, that a distinction is
to be made between a simple contract, that is, a contract
to do a particular act, and a contract by which we enter
upon a relation established by our Creator. Of the first
kind, are ordinary mercantile contracts to sell or deliver
merchandise at a particular place, for a specified sum, to be
paid at a particular time. Here, if the price be not paid,
we are under nb obligation to deliver the goods; and, if
the goods be not delivered, we are under no obligation to
pay the price. Of the second kind, are the contract of
civil society, and the marriage contract. These, being
appointed by the constitution under which God has placed
us, may be dissolved only for such reasons as he has appointed. Thus, society and the individual enter mutually
into certain obligations with respect to each other; but it
does not follow, that either party is liberated by every failure of the other. The case is the same with the marriage
montract. In these instances, each party is bound tu fulfil
ts part of the contract, notwithstanding the failur'  f the
other.
It is here proper to remark, that the obligation to veracity
is precisely the same, under what relations soever it may be




ï~~286     VERA.ITY IN RESPECT TO THE FUTURE.
forme]   It is as binding between individuals and society;
3n both parts, and upon societies and societies, as it is between individuals. There is no more excuse for a society,
when it violates its obligation to an individual, or for an
individual when he violates his obligations to a society,;
than in any other case of deliberate falsehood. By how
much more are societies or communities bound to fidelity,
n their engagements with each other, since the faith of
treaties is the only barrier which interposes to shield nations
from the appeal to bloodshed in every case of collision of
interests! And the obligation is the same, under what
circumstances soever nations may treat with each other.
A civilized people has no right to violate its solemn obligations, because the other party is uncivilized. A strong
nation has no right to lie to a weak nation. The simple
fact, that two communities of moral agents have entered
into engagements, binds both of them equally in the sight
of their common Creator. And He, who is the Judge of
all, in His holy habitation, will assuredly avenge, with most
solemn retributions, that violation of faith, in which the
peculiar blessings bestowed upon one party are made a
reason for inflicting misery upon the other party, with whom
he has dealt less bountifully. Shortly before the death of
the Duke of Burgundy, the pupil of Fenelon, a cabinet
council was held, at which he was present, to take into
consideration the expediency of violating a treaty; which
it was supposed could be done with manifest advantage
to France. The treaty was read; and the ministers explained in what respects it operated unfavorably, and how
great an accession of territory might be made to France,
by acting in defiance of its solemn obligations. Reasons
of state were, of course, offered in abundance, to justify
th? deed of perfidy. The Duke of Burgundy heard them
all in silence. When they had finished, he closed the
conference by laying his hand upon the instrument, and
saying, with emphasis, " Gentlemen, there is a treaty."
This single sentiment is a more glorious monument to his
"ame, than a col;mn inscribed with the record of an
hundred victories.
t a;freauently said, partly by way of explanation, and




ï~~VERACITY IN RESPECT TO THE FUTURE.      287
partly by way of excuse, for the violation of contracts by
communities, that corporate bodies have no conscience.
In what sense this is true, it is not necessary here to inquire.
It is sufficient to know that every one of the corporators
has a conscience, and is responsible to God for obedience
to its dictates.  Men may mystify before each other,
and they may stupify the monitor in their own bosoms, by
hrowing the blame of perfidy upon each other; but it is
yet worthy to be remembered, that they act in the presence
of a Being with whom the night shineth as the day, and that
they must appear before a tribunal where there will be "no
shuffling." For beings acting under these conditions, there
surely can be no wiser or better course, than that of simple;
unsophisticated verity, under what relations soever they
may be called upon to act.




ï~~288

CHAPTER THIRD.
OF OATHS.
I. The theory of oaths.
It is frequently of the highest importance to society, that
the facts relating to a particular transaction should be distinctly and accurately ascertained. Unless this could be
done, neither the innocent could be protected, nor the
guilty punished; that is, justice could not be administered,
and society could not exist.
To almost every fact, or to the circumstances which
determine it to be fact, there must, from the laws of cause
and effect, and from the social nature of man, be many witnesses. The fact can, therefore, be generally known, if
the witnesses can be induced to testify, and to testify the
truth.
To place men under such circumstances, that, upon the
ordinary principles of the human mind, they shall be most
likely to testify truly, is the design of administering an oath.
In taking an oath, besides incurring the ordinary civil
penalties incident to perjury, he who swears, calls upon
God to witness the truth of his assertions; and, also, either
expressly or by implication, invokes upon himself the judgmnents of God, if he speak falsely. The ordinary form of
swearing in this country, and in Great Britain, is to close
the promise of veracity with the words, " So help me God;"
that is, may God only help me so as I tell the truth. Inasmuch as, without the help of God, we must be miserable
for time and for eternity; to relinquish his help, if we violate the truth, is, on this condition, to imprecate upon ourselves the absence of the favor of God, and, of course, all
possible misery for ever.
The theory of oaths, then, I suppose to be as follows:
1. Men naturally speak the truth, when there i  no




ï~~OF OATHS.

289

counteracting motive to prevent it" and, unless some such
motive be supposed to supervene, they expect the truth to
be spoken.
2. When, however, by speaking falsely, some immediate
advantage can be gained, or some immediate evil avoided,
they will frequently speak falsely.
3. But, when a greater good can be gained, or a greater
evil avoided, by speaking the truth, than could possibly be
either gained or avoided by speaking falsely, they will, on
the ordinary principles of the human mind, speak the truth.
T ) place them tinder such circumstances, is the design of
an oath.
4. Now, as the favor of God is the source of every
blessing which man can possibly enjoy, and as his displeasure must involve misery utterly beyond the grasp of
our limited conceptions, if we can place men under such
circumstances that, by speaking falsely, they relinquish all
claim to the one, and incur all that is awful in the other,
we manifestly place a stronger motive before them for
speaking the truth, than can possibly be conceived for
speaking falsehood. Hence, it is supposed, on the ordinary
principles of the human mind, that men, under such circumstances, will speak the truth.
Such I suppose to be the theory of oaths. There can
be no doubt that, if men acted upon this conviction, the
truth would be, by means of oaths, universally elicited.
But, inasmuch as men may be required to testify, whose
practical conviction of these great moral truths is at best
but weak, and who are liable to be more strongly influenced
by immediate than by ulterior motives, human punishments
have always been affixed to the crime of perjury. These,
of course, vary in different ages, and in different periods of
society. The most equitable provision seems to be that of
the Jewish law, by which the perjurer was made to suffer
precisely the same injury which he had designed to inflict
upon the innocent party. The Mosaic enactment seems
intended to have been, in regard to this crime, unusually
rigorous. The judges are specially commanded not to
spare, but to exact an eye for an eye, a tooth for a tooth.
It certainly deserves serious consideration, whether modern
25




ï~~290

OF OATHS.

legislators might not derive important instruction from ths
feature of Jewish jurisprudence.
II. The lawfulness of oaths. On this subject, a diversi
ty of opinion has been entertained. It has been urged, by
those who deny the lawfulness of oaths,1. That oaths are frequently forbidden in the New Testament; and that we are commanded to use yes for our
affirmative, and no for our negative; for the reason that,
"whatsoever is more than these cometh of evil, or of the
evil one."
2. That no man has a right to peril his eternal salvation,
upon a condition which, from intellectual or moral imbecility,
he would be so liable to violate.
3. That no one has a right to oblige another to place
himself under such conditions.
4. That the frequent use of oaths tends, by abating ouz
reverence for the Deity, to lessen the practical feeling ol
the obligation to veracity.
5. That no reason can be assigned, why this crime
should be treated so differently from every other. Other
crimes, so far as man is concerned, are left to human -punishments; and there can.be no reason why this crime should
involve the additional punishment intended by the imprecation of the loss of the soul.
6. It is said that those sects who never take an oath, are
as fully believed, upon their simple affirmation, as any
others; nay, that false witness among them is more rare
than among other men taken at random. This is, I believe,
acknowledged to be the fact.
Those who defend the lawfulness of oaths urge, on the
contrary,1. That those passages in the New Testament which
have been referred to, forbid, not judicial oaths, but merely
profanity.
2. That our Savior responded, when examined upon
oath. This, however, is denied, by the other party, to be
a fair interpretation.
3. That the Apostles, on several occasions, call God to
witness, when they are attesting to particular "acts. The
instances adduced are such phrases as these: ' God is my

0




ï~~OF OATHS.

291

witness;" "Behold, before God I lie not."  The example
in this case is considered sufficient to assure us of the law
fulness of this sort of appeal."
4. That the importance of truth to the purposes of jus
teice, warrants us in taking other measures for the prevention
of perjury than are taken for the prevention of other crimes,
and specially, as this is a crime to the commission of which
there may always exist peculiarly strong temptations.
These are, I believe, the principal considerations which
have been urged on both sides of the questioni. It seems
to me to need a more thorough discussion than can be
allowed to it in this place. One thing, however, seems
evident, that the multiplication of oaths, demanded by the
present practice of most Christian nations, is not only very
wicked, but that its direct tendency is to diminish our reverence for the Deity; and thus, in the end, to lead to the
very evil which it is intended to prevent.
III. Interpretation of oaths.
As oaths are imposed for the safety of the party administering them, they are to be interpreted as he understands
them. The person under oath has no right to make any
mental reservation, but to declare the truth, precisely in the
manner that the truth, the whole truth, and nothing but the
truth, is expected of him. On no other principle would
we ever know what to believe or to expect from a witness.
If, for the sake of personal friendship, or personal advantage, or from fear of personal inconvenience, or from the
excitement of party partiality, he shrink from declaring
the whole truth, he is as truly guilty of perjury as though
he swore falsely for money.
IV. Different kinds of oaths.
Oaths respect either the past or the future, that is, aie
either assertory or promissory.
1. The oath respecting the past, is definite. A transaction either took place, or it did not take place, and we
either have or have not some knowledge respecting it. It
is, therefore, in our power either to tell what we know, or
to tell what, and in how much, we do not know. This is
the proper occasion for an oath.
9. The oath respecting the future is of iecessity indeft.




ï~~292

OF OATHS.

nite, as when we promise upon oath to discharge, to the
best of our ability, a particular office  Thus, the parties
may have very different views of whit is meant, by dis
charging an office according to the best of our ability; oi
this obligation may conflict with others, such as domestic oi
personal obligations; and the incumbent may not know,
even with the best intentions, which obligation ought to take
the precedence, that is, what is the best of his ability.
Such beirg the case, who, that is aware of the frailty oi
human nature, will dare to peril his eternal salvation upon
the performance, to the best of his ability, of any official
duty? And, if these allowances be understood by both
parties, how are they to be limited; and, if they be not
limited, what is the value of an oath?  Such being the case,
it is, at best, doubtful, whether promissory oaths of office
ought ever to be required. Much less ought they to be
required, as is frequently the case, in the most petty details
of official-life. They must be a snare to the conscience of
a thoughtful man; and must tend to obliterate moral distinctions from the mind of him who is, as is too frequently
the case, unfortunately thoughtless. Why should one man,
who is called upon to discharge the duties of a constable,
or of an overseer of common schools, or even of a counsellor
or a judge, be placed under the pains and perils of perjury,
or under peril of his eternal salvation, any more than his
neighbor, who discharges the duty of a merchant, of an in
structor of youth, a physician, or a clergyman? It seems
to me that no man can take such an oath of office, upon
reflection, without such mental reservation as must immediately convinre him that the requirement is nugatory;
and, if so that it nust be injurious.




ï~~CLASS SECOND.

DUTIES WHICH ARISE FROM THE CONSTITUTION OF THE SEX 6
IT has already been remarked, that the very fact, that our
Creator has constituted us with a capacity for a particular
form of happiness, and has provided means for the gratification of that desire, is, in itself, an intimation that he intended
that this desire should be gratified. But, as our happiness
is the design of this constitution, it is equally evident, that
he intended this desire to be gratified only in such manner
as would conduce to this result; and that, in estimating that
result, we must take into view the whole nature of man, as
a rational and accountable being, and not only man as an
individual, but man also as a society.
1. The subject upon which we now enter, presents a,,striking illustration of the truth of these remarks. On the
one hand, it is evident that the principle of sexual desire, is
a part of the constitution of man. That it was intended to
be gratified, is evident from the fact, that, without such
gratification, the race of man would immediately cease to
exist. Again, if it were not placed under restrictions, that
is, were promiscuous intercourse permitted, the race would
perish from neglect of. offspring, and universal sterility.
Thus, universal celibacy and unlimited indulgence, would
both equally defeat the end of the Creator. It is, therefore,
as evident that our Creator has imposed a limit to this desire, as a part of our constitution, as that he has implanted
within us the desire itself. It is the object of the law of
chastity to explain and enforce this limit.
2. As it is manifestly the object of the Creator, that the
sexes should live together, and form a society with each
other, in many respects dissimilar to every other society,
producing new relations, and imposing new obligations, the




ï~~294           DUTIES WHICH ARISE, ETC
laws of this society need to be particularly explained.
This is the law of marriage.
3. As the result of marriage is children, a new relation
arises out of this connection, namely, the relation of parent
and child. This imposes special obligations upon both
parties, namely, the duties and rights of parents, and the
duties and rights of children.
This class of duties will, therefore, be treated of in the
following order:
Chape r 1. the general duty of chastity.
"    2. The law of marriage.
"    3. The rights and duties of parents.
"    4. The rights and duties of children.




ï~~295

CHAPTER FIRST.
MHE GENERAL DUTY OF CHASTITY.
THE SXUai appetite being a part of our constitution,
and a umt to the indulgence of it being fixed by the
Creator, the business of moral philosophy is to ascertain
this limit.
The moral law on this subject is as follows:
The duty of chastity limits the indulgence of this desire,
to individuals who are exclusively united to each other for
kfe.
Hence it forbids,
1. Adultery, or intercourse between a married person and
every other person except that person to whom he or she is
united for life.
2. Polygamy, or a plurality of wives or of husbands.
3. Concubinage, or the temporary cohabitation of individuals with each other.
4. Fornication, or intercourse with prostitutes, or with any
individual under any other condition than that of the marriage covenant.
5. Inasmuch as unchaste desire is strongly exc;ted by
the imagination, the law of chastity forbids all impure
thoughts and actions; all unchaste conversation, looks, or
gestures; the reading of obscene or lascivious books and
every thing which would naturally produce in us a dsposi
tion of mind to violate this precept.
That the above is the law of God on this subject, it
manifest, both from natural and from revealed religion.
The law, as above recited, contains two restrictions:
1. That the individuals be exclusively united to each
)tier; and,2. Tkat this exclusive union be for life.




ï~~296

THE GENERAL DUTY OF CHASTITY.

Let us examine the indications of natural religion upon
both of these points.
I. The indulgence of the desire referred to, is, by the
law of God, restricted to individuals exclusively united to
each other. This may be shown from several considerations.
1. The number of births, of both sexes, under all circumstances, and in all ages, has been substantially equal.
Now, if single individuals be not exclusively united to each
other, there must arise an inequality of distribution, unless
we adopt the law of promiscuous concubinage. But as
the desire is universal, it cannot be intended that the distribution should be unequal; for thus, many would, from
necessity, be left single. And the other alternative, promiscuous concubinage, would very soon lead, as we have
already remarked, to the extinction of society.
2. The manifest design of nature is to increase the
human species, in the most rapid ratio consistent with the
conditions of our being. That is always the most happy
condition of a nation, and that nation is most accurately
obeying the laws of our constitution, in which the number
of the human race is most rapidly increasing. Now it is
certain, that, under the law of chastity, as it has been explained, that is, where individuals are exclusively united
to each other, the increase of population will be more rapid,
than under any other circumstances.
3. That must be the true law of the domestic relations
which will have the most beneficial effect upon the main
tenance and education of children. Under the influence
of such a law as I have described, it is manifest, that children will be incomparably better provided for than under
that of any other. The number of children produced by
a sing'e pair thus united, will ordinarily be as great as can
be supported and instructed by two individuals. And,
besides, the care of children, under these circumstances,
oecomes a matter, not merely of duty, but of pleasure. On
the contrary, just in so far as this law is violated, the love
of offspring diminishes. The care of a family, instead of a
vleasure, becomes an insupportable burden; and, in the
worst states of soci ty. children either perish by multitudes




ï~~THE GENERAL DUTY OF CHASTITY.

QV

frol neglect, oi are murdered by their parents in infancy
The number of human beings who perish by infanticide,
in heathen countries, is almost incredible. And in countries not heathen, it is a matter of notoriety, that neglect of
offspring is the universal result of licentiousness in parents.
The support of foundlings, in some of the most licentious
districts in Europe, has become so great a public burden as
to give rise to serious apprehension.
4. There can be no doubt that man is intended to deri e
by far the greatest part of his happiness from society.
And of social happiness, by far the greatest, the most exquisite, and the most elevating portion, is that derived from
the domestic relations; not only those of husband and wife,
but those of parent and child, of brother and sister, and
those arising from the more distant gradations of collateral
kindred. Now, human happiness, in this respect, can exist
nly in proportion to our obedience to the law of chastity.
What domestic happiness can be expected in a house continually agitated by the ceaseless jealousy of several wives,
and the interminable quarrels of their several broods of
children?  How can filial love dwell in the bosoms of children, the progeny of one father by several concubines?
This state of society existed under the most favorable circumstances, in the patriarchal age; and its results even
here are sufficiently deplorable. No one can read the histories of the families of Abraham, Isaac, and Jacob, and
David, without becoming convinced that no deviation can
be made from the gospel law of marriage, without creating
a tendency to wrangling without end, to bitterness and
strife, nay, to incest and murder. And if this be the result
of polygamy and concubinage, in what language is it possible to describe the effects of universal licentiousness? By
this, the very idea of home would be abolished. The name
of parent would signify no more in man than in the brutes.
Man, instead of being social, would become nothing more
than a gregarious animal, distinguished from his fellowanimals by nothing else than greater intellectual capacity,
and the more disgusting abuse of it.
5. No reason can be assigned, why the intellectual,
moral and social hap2iness of the one sex is not as valu



ï~~298

T IE GENERAL DUTY OF CHASTITY.

able, in the sight of the Creator, as that of the other
Much less can any reason be assigned, why the one sex
should be to the other merely a source of sensual gratification. But, just as we depart from the law of chastity, as it
has been here explained, woman ceases to be the equal and
the companion of man, and becomes either his timid and
much abused slave, or else the mere instrument for ithe
gratification of his lust. No one can pretend to believe
that the Creator ever intended that one human being
should stand in such a relation as this to any other human
being.
II. The second part of the law of chastity requires that
this union should be for life.
Some bf the reasons for this are as follows:
1. In order to domestic happiness, it is necessary that
both parties should cultivate a spirit of conciliation and forbearance, and mutually endeavor to conform their individual peculiarities to each other. Unless this be done,
instead of a community of interests, there will arise incessant collision. Now, nothing can tend more directly to the
cultivation of a proper temper, than the consideration that
this union is indissoluble. A mere temporary union, liable,
to be dissolved by every ebullition of passion, would foster
every impetuous and selfish feeling of the human heart.
2. If the union be not for life, there is no other limit to
be fixed to its continuance than the will of either party.
This would speedily lead to promiscuous concubinage, and
all the evils resulting from it, of which I have already
spoken.
3. Children require the care of both parents until they
have attained to maturity; that is, generally, during tihe
greater part of the lifetime of their parents, at least, during
all that period of their life in which they wound be most
likely to desire a separation. Besides, the children are the
]      joint property of both parents; and, if the domestic society
be dissolved, they belong to one no more than to the other;
that is, they hav  o protector, but are cast out defenceless
upon the world.
4. Or, if this be not the case, and they are protected by
one parent, they must suffer an irreparable loss by the




ï~~THE GENERAL DUTY OF CHIASTITI

299

withdrawment of the other parent from his or htr share of
the parental responsibility. In general, the care would fall
upon the mother, whose parental instincts are the stronger,
but who is, from her peculiar situation, the less able to
protect them. The whole tendency of every licentious
system is, to take advantage of the parental tenderness of
the mother; and, because she would rather die than leave
her children to perish, basely to devolve upon her a burden
which she is wholly unable to sustain.
5. Parents themselves, in advanced years, need the care
of their children, and become dependent, in a great measure,
for their happiness upon them. But all this source of
happiness is dried up by any system which allows of the
disruption of the domestic society, and the desertion of
offspring, simply at the will of the parent.
The above considerations may perhaps be deemed sufficient to establish the general law, and to show what is the
will of the Creator on this subject. But it may be suggested, that all these consequences need not follow occasional
aberrations, and that individual cases of licentious indulgence should be exempted from the general rule. To this
I answer,1. The severity of the punishment which God has affixed
to the crime in general, shows how severe is his displeasure
against it. God is no respecter of persons, but he will
visit upon every one the strict reward of his iniquity. And
he does thus act. In woman, this vice is immediately fata.
to character; and in man, it leads directly to those crimes
which are the sure precursors of temporal and eternal perdition.
2. The God who made us all, and who is the Father
and the Judge of his creatures, is omniscient; and he will
bring every secret thing into judgment. Let the seducer
and the profligate remember that each must stand, with his
victim and his partner in guilt, before the Judge of quick
and dead, where a recompense will be rendered to every
man according to his deeds.
3. Let it be remembered that a female is a moral and
accountable being, hastening with us to the bar of God;
that she is made to be the -.entre of all that is delightful




ï~~300

THE GENERAL DUTY OF CHASTITY.

in the domestic relations; that, by her very nature she
looks up to man as her protector, and loves to confide in
his hands her happiness for life; and that she can be ruined
only by abusing that confidence proving false to that reliance, and using the very lovehst trait in her character as
the instrument of her undoing. And then let us consider
the misery into which a loss of virtue must plunge the
victim and her friends for ever; the worth of that soul,
which, unless a miracle interpose, must, by the loss of
virtue, be consigned to eternal despair; and I ask whether,
in the whole catalogue of human crime, there be one
whose atrocity more justly merits the deepest damnation,
than that which, for the momentary gratification of a lawless
appetite, will violate all these obligations, outrage all these
sympathies, and work out so wide-spreading, so interminable a ruin?
Such is the lesson of natural religion on this subject.
III. The precepts of revealed religion may be very
briefly stated:
1. The seventh commandment is, "Thou shalt not comnit adultery."  Ex. xx, 14. By the term  adultery, is
meant every unlawful act and thought. The Mosaic law
enacted that he who seduced a woman should marry her.
Ex. xxii, 16, 17. This is, doubtless, the equitable rule;
and there is no reason why it should not be strictly enforced
now, both by the civil law and by the opinions of the community.
2. The punishment of adultery was, under the same
law, death to both parties. Lev. x, 22. Deut. xxii, 22.
That "this should now be enforced, no one will contend.
But it is sufficient to show in what abhorrence the crime is
held by the Creator.
3. The consequences of whoredom and adultery are
frequently set forth in the prophets, and the most awful
judgments of God are denounced against them.    This
subject is also treated with graphic power by Solomon, in
the book of Proverbs. See Proverbs v, 3-29; vii, 5-26
4. Our Savior explains the law of chastity and marriage in his sermon on the mount, and declares it equally to
respect unclean thoughts and actions: " Ye have heard




ï~~THE GENERAL DUTY OF CHASTITY.

301

that it hath been said by them of old time, thou shalt not
commit adultery. But I say unto you, that whosoever!ooketh on a woman to lust after her, hath comrait ed
adultery with her already in his heart. And if thy right
eye offend thee (or cause thee to offend), pluck it out and
cast it from thee; for it is profitable for thee that one of
thy members should perish, and not that thy whole body
should be east into hell."  Matt. v, 27-32. That is, as
I suppose, eradicate from your bosom every impure thought,
no matter at what sacrifice; for no one who cherishes
impunrity, even in thought, can be an inheritor of the
kingdom of heaven.
Uncleanness is also frequently enumerated among the
crimes which exclude men from the kingdom of heaven:
Ephesians v, 5, 6: " No   whoremonger or unclean
person hath any inheritance in the kingdom of Christ nmd
God."
Galatians v, 19-21: " Now, the works of the flesh
are manifest, which are these: adultery, fornication, uncleanness, lasciviousness; of the which I tell you before,
as I have told you in times past, that they which do such
things shall not inherit the kingdom of God."
Colossians iii, 5, 6: "Mortify, therefore, your members,
which are upon the earth: fornication, uncleanness, inordinate affections; for which things' sake, the wrath of God
cometh upon the children of disobedience."
Let every one remember, therefore, that whoever violates this command, violates it in defiance of the most
clearly revealed command of God, and at the peril of his
own soul. He must meet his act, and the consequences
of it, at that day when the secrets of all hearts are made
manifest, when every hidden thing will be brought to light,
and when God will judge every man according to his
deeds.
I remarked above, that the law of chastity forbade the
indulgence of impure or lascivious imaginations, the narboring of such thoughts in our minds, or the doing of any
thing by which such thoughts should be excited. Of no
vice is it so true as of this, that "lust, when it is cherished,
bringeth forth sin; and sin, when  is finished, bringeth
26




ï~~302

THE GENERAL DUTY OF CHASTITY.

forth death."  Licentiousness in outward conduct neve.
appears, until the mind has become defiled by impure
imaginations. When, however, the mind has become thus
defiled, nothing is wanted but suitable opportunity to complete the moral catastrophe. Hence, the necessity of the
most intense vigilance in the government of our thoughts
and in the avoiding of all books, and all pictures, and all
society, and all conduct and actions of which the tendency
is to imbue our imaginations with any thing at variance
with the purest chastity. Whatever, in other respects,
may be the fascinations of a book, if it be impure or lascivious, let it be eschewed. Whatever be the accomplishments of an acquaintance, if he or she be licentious in conversation or action, let him or her be shunned. No man
can take fire in his bosom, and his clothes not be burned
We cannot mingle with the vile, let that vileness be dressed
in ever so tasteful a garb, without becoming defiled. ' The
only rule of safety is, to avoid the appearance of evil; for
thus alone shall we be able to avoid the reality. Hence it
is, that a licentious theatre (and the tendency of all
theatres is to licentiousness), immodest dancing, and all
amusements and actions which tend to inflame the passions,
are horribly pernicious to morals. It would be interesting
to learn on what principle of morals a virtuous woman
would justify her attendance upon an amusement, in which
she beholds before her a once lovely female uttering covert
obscenity in the presence of thousands, and where she is
surrounded by hundreds of women, also once lovely, buti
now abandoned, whose ruin has been consummated by
this very means, and who assemble in this place, with the
more certain assurance of thus being able, most stccessfully, to effect the ruin of others.




ï~~30

CHAPTER SECOND
THE LAW OF MARRIAGE.
IT has been already remarked, in the preceding section,
that the law of chastity forbids all sexual intercourse be.
}ween persons who have not been exclusively united for
hfe. In the act of marriage, two persons, under the most
solemn circumstances, are thus united; and they enter
into a mutual contract thus to live in respect to each other
This relation having been established by God, the contract
thus entered into has all the solemnity of an oath. Hence
he who violates it is guilty of a two-fold crime: first, the
violation of the law of chastity; and, secondly, of the
law of veracity,-a veracity pledged under the most solemn
circumstances.
But this is by no means all that is intended by the institution of marriage. By the contract thus entered into,
a society is formed, of a most interesting and important
character, which is the origin of all civil society; and in
which, children are prepared to become members of that
great community. As our principal knowledge of the
nature and obligations of this institution is derived from the
sacred Scriptures, I shall endeavor briefly to explain the
manner in which they treat of it, without adding any thing
to what I have already said, in regard to the teaching of
natural religion.
I shall consider, first, the nature of this contract, and,
secondly, the duties which it enjoins, and the crimes which
it lorbids.
First. The nature of the contract.
1. The contract is for life, and is dissoluble for one cause
only,-the cause of whoredom:
Matthew  xix, 3-6, 9. "Then came some of the
Pharisees to him, and, tempting him. asked, Can a man.




ï~~304

THE LAW OF MARRIAGE.

upon e rery pretence, divorce his wife?  He answered,
Have ya not read, that at the beginning, when the Crea
tor made man, he formed a male and female; and said,
for this cause shall a man leave father and mother, and
adhere to his wife; and they two shall be one flesh.
Wherefore, they are no longer two, but one flesh. What then
God hath conjoined, let not man separate. Wherefore, I
say unto you, whosoever divorceth his wife, except for
whoredom, and marrieth another, committeth adultery."
I use here the translation of Dr. Campbell, which, I think,
conveys more exactly than the common version the meaning of the original.
2. We are here taught that marriage, being an institution of God, is subject to his laws alone, and not to the
laws of man. Hence the civil law is binding upon the
conscience only in so far as it corresponds to the law of
God.
3. This contract is essentially mutual. By entering
into it, the members form a society, that is, they have something min common. Whatever is thus in common, belongs
equally to both. And, on the contrary,.what is not thus
surrendered, remains as before in the power of the individual.
4. The basis of this union is affection. Individuals thus
contract themselves to each other, on the ground not
merely of mutual regard, but also of a regard stronger than
that which they entertain for any other persons else. If
such be not the condition of the parties, they cannot be
united with any fair prospect of happiness. Now, such is the
nature of the human affections, that we derive a higher and
a purer pleasure from rendering happy those whom we love
than from self-gratification. Thus, a parent prefers selfdenial, for the sake of a child, to self-indulgence. The
same principle is illustrated in every case of pure and dis..
interested benevolence. This is the essential element, on
which depends the happiness of the married state. To oe
in the highest degree happy, we must each prefer the nappiness of another to our own.
5. I have m mtioned above, that, this oeing a voluntary
cImpa ct, and "3r' ag a peculiar society, there are some




ï~~THE LAW OF MARRIAGE.

305

things which, by this compact, each surrenders to the other'
and also other things which are not surrendered. It is important that these be distinguished from each other.
1 remark, then,a. Neither party surrenders to the other any control over
any thing appertaining to the conscience. From the nature
of our moral constitutio., nothing of this sort can be surrendered to any created being. For either party to interfere
with the discharge of those duties, which the other party
really supposes itself to owe to God, is therefore wicked
and oppressive.
b. Neither party surrenders to the other any thing which
would violate prior and lawful obligations. Thus, a husband does not promise to subject his professional pursuits
to the will of his wife. He has chosen his profession, and,
if he pursue it lawfully, it does not interfere with the contract. So, also, his duties as a citizen, are of prior obligation; and, if they really interfere with any others, those
subsequently formed must be construed in subjection to
them. Thus, also, the filial duties of both parties remain,
in  some respects, unchanged   after marriage, and the
marriage contract should not be so interpreted as to violate
them.
c. On the other hand, I suppose that the marriage contract
binds each party, whenever individual gratification is concerned, to prefer the happiness of the other party to its
own. If pleasure can be enjoyed by both, the happiness
of both is increased by enjoying it in common. If it can
be enjoyed but by one, each should prefer that it be enjoyed
by the other. And if there be sorrow to be ei.dured, or
inconvenience to be suffered, each should desire, if possible,
to bear the infliction for the sake of shielding the other
from pain.
d. And, as I have remarked before, the disposition to do
this arises from the very nature of the principles on which
the compact is formed, from unreserved affection. This is
the very manner in which affection always displays itself.
This is the very means by which affection is created
" She 1 ved me for the dangers I had seen, and I loved
her that;he didl pity them."-SHAKSPEARE.  And this is
26*




ï~~306

THE LAW OF MARRIAGE.

the only coui'se of conduct by wlich affection can be retained. And the manifestation of this temper is, under al
circumstances, obligatory upon both parties.
6. As, however, in all societies, there may be differenceof opinion, even where the harmony of feeling remains unimpaired, so there may be differences here. Where such
differences of opinion exist, there must be some ultimate
appeal. In ordinary societies, such questions are settled
by a numerical majority. But as, in this case, such a decision is impossible, some other principle must be adopted.
The right of deciding must rest with either the one or the
other. As the husband is the ndividual who is responsible
Lo civil society, as his intercourse with the world is of
necessity greater, the voice of nature and of revelation
unite in conferring the right of ultimate authority upon him.
By this arrangement the happiness of the wife is increased
no less than that of the husband.  Her power is always
greatest in concession. She is graceful and attractive
while meek and gentle; but when angered and turbulent,
she loses the fascination of her own sex, without attaining
to the dignity of the other.
"A woman moved is like a fountain troubled,
Muddy, ill-seeming, and bereft of beauty."  SHAKS.
Secondly. I come now to speak of the duties imposed by
the marriage relation.
I. The marriage relation imposes upon both parties,
equally, the duty of chastity.
1. Hence it forbids adultery, or intercourse with any
other person than that one to whom the individual is united
in marriage.
2. And, hence, it forbids all conduct in married persons,
or with married persons, of which the tendency would be
to diminish their affection for those to whom they are united
in marriage, or of which the tendency would be to give
pain to the other party. This is evident from what we
have before said. For, if the contract itself proceed upon
the principle of entire and exclusive affection, any thing
must be a violation of it, which destroys or lessens that
affection; anq that which causes this affection to be doubted,




ï~~THE LAW OF MARRIAGE.

3O7

produces to the party in which the doubt exists, the sanme
misery that would ensue from actual injury.
The crime of adultery is of an exceedingly aggravated
nature. As has been befort remarked, aside from being a
violation of the law of chast:ty, it is also a. violation of a
most solemn contract. The misery which it inflicts upon
parents and children, relatives and friends, the total annihilation of domestic happiness, and the total disruption of
parental and filial ties which it necessarily produces, mark
it for one of the basest forms of human atrocity. Hence,
as might be expected, it is spoken of in the Scriptures as
one of those crimes on which God has set the seal of his
peciliar displeasure. In addition to the passages already
quoted on this subject, I barely mention the following:
Matthew v, 28. "Whosoever looketh on a woman to
cherish impure desire, hath committed adultery with her
already in his heart."  Hebrews xiii, 4. "Marriage is
honorable in all, and the bed undefiled; out whoremongers
and adulterers God will judge." Revelations xxi, 8.
"Murderers and the lascivious shall have their part in the
lake that bumrneth with fire and brimstone, which is the
second death." Throughout the writings of the prophets,
in numberless instances, this crime is singled out, as one for
which God visits with the most awful judgments, both
nations and individuals. And, if any one will reflect that
the happiness and prosperity of a country must depend on
the virtue of the domestic society more than on any thing
else, he cannot fail to perceive that a crime, which, by a
single act, sunders the conjugal tie, and leaves children
worse than parentless, must be attended with more abun
dant and remediless evils, than almost any other that can
oe named. The taking of human life can be attended with
io consequences more dreadful. In the one case, the
parental tie is broken, but the victim is innocent; in the
cther, the tie is broken, with the additional aggravation of
an i-retrievable moral stain, and a wide-spreading dishonor
that cannot be washed away.
II. The law of marriage enforces the duty of mutual
affection.
Affection towards another is the result of his or her actions




ï~~308

THE LAW OF MARRIAGE.

and temper towards us. Admiration and respect r..ay be
the result of other manifestations of character, but nothing
is so likely, as evidence of affection towards ourselves, to
produce in us affection towards others.
Hence the duty of cultivating affection, imposes upon
each party the obligation to act in such manner as to excite
affection in the bosom of the other. The rule is, "As ye
would that others should do unto (or be affected towards)
you, do ye even so unto (or be ye so affected towards)
them."  And the other gospel rule is here also verified:
"Give, and it shall be given unto you, good measure, pressed
down, and heaped together, and running over, shall men give
into your bosom." To cultivate affection, then, is not to
strive to excite it by any direct effort of abstract thinking, but
to show, by the whole tenor of a life of disinterested goodness,
that our happiness is really promoted by seeking the happiness of another. It consists in restraining our passions, in
subduing our selfishness, in quieting our irritability, in eradcating from our minds every thing which could give pain
to an ingenuous spirit, and in cherishing a spirit of meekness,
forbearance, forgiveness, and of active, cheerful, and incessant desire for the happiness of those whom we love. At
no less price than this can affection be purchased; and
those who are willing to purchase it at this price, will rarely
have reason to complain of the want of it.
III. The law of marriage imposes the duty of mutual
assistance.
In the domestic society, as in every other, there are
special duties devolving upon each member; this is no
more than to say that it is not the duty of every member
of a society to do every thing. So here, there are duties
devolving of right upon the husband, and other duties devolving of right upon the wife  Thus, it is the duty, in the
first instance, of the husband, to provide for the wants of the
family; and of the wife to assume the charge of the affairs
of the household. His sphere of duty is without, her sphere
of duty is within. Both are ender obligation to discharge
these duties, specially because they are parties to this particular compact. The Apostle Paul affirms, that he who
does not provide for his own, specially for those of his own




ï~~THE LAW OF MARRIAGE.

309

ho ise, hath denied the faith, and is worse taan un infidel.
That man is worthily despised, who does not qualify himself
to support that family, of which he has voluntarily assumed
the office of protector. Nor surely is that woman less deserving of contempt, who, having consumed the period of
youth in frivolous reading, dissipating amusement, and in
the acquisition of accomplishments, which are to be consigned, immediately after marriage, to entire forgetfulness,
enters upon the duties of a wife, with no other expectation,
than that of being a useless and prodigal appendage to a
household, ignorant of her duties, and of the manner of
discharging them; and with no other conceptions of the
responsibilities which she has assumed, than such as have
been acquired from a life of childish caprice, luxurious selfindulgence, and sensitive, feminine, yet thoroughly finished
selfishness. And yet I fear that the system of female education, at present in vogue, is, in many respects, liable to
the accusation of producing precisely this tendency.
I have remarked, that the duties of the husband and
wife are thus, in the first instance, apportioned. Yet, if
one be disabled, all that portion of the duty of the disabled
party, which the other can discharge, falls upon that other.
If the husband cannot alone support the family, it is the
duty of the wife to assist him. If the wife is, through
sickness, unable to direct her household, the husband is
Hound, in so far as it is possible, to assume her care. In
case of the death of either, the whole care of the children
devolves upon the survivor; nor has the survivor a right to
devolve it upon another person, if he or she can discharge
it alone.
IV. The law of marriage, both from Scripture and from
reason, makes the husband the head of the domestic society.  Hence, when difference of opinion exists (except
as stated above, where a paramount obhligation binds), the
decision of the husband is ultimate. Hence the duty of
the wife is submission and obedience. The husband, however, has no more right than the wife to act unjustly, oppressively, or unkindly; nor is the fact of his possessing
authority in the least an excuse for so acting. But as
differences of opinion are a.vays liable to exist, and as, in




ï~~310

THE LAW OF MARRIAGE.

such case, one or the other party must yield, to avoid the
greatest of all evils in such a society,-continual dissension,
-the duty of yielding devolves upon the wife. And it is
to be remembered, that the act of submission is, in every
respect, as dignified and as lovely as the act of authority;
nay, more, it involves an element of virtue which rdoes not
belong to the other. It supposes neither superior excellence nor superior mind in the party which governs; but
merely an official relation, held for the mutual good of both
parties and of their children. The teaching of Scripture
on this subject is explicit; see 1 Peter iii, 1-7: "Likewise, ye wives, be in subjection to your own husbands, that
if any obey not the word, they also may, without the word,
be won by the conversation of the wives; while they behold
your chaste conversation united with respect.    Whose
adorning, let it not be that outward adorning of plaiting
the hair, and of wearing of gold, and of putting on of apparel; but let it be the inward disposition of the mind,
which is not corruptible, even the ornament of a meek and
quiet spirit, which is, in the sight of God, of great price.
Likewise, ye husbands, dwell with your wives according to
knowledge, as with the weaker party; rendering respect to
them, as heirs with you of the grace of life." That is, if I
understand the passage, conduct towards them, as knowing
that they are weak; that is, needing support and protection; and, at the same time, rendering them all that respect
which is due to those who are, as much as yourselves, heirs
to a blessed immortality. A more beautiful exhibition of
the duties of the marriage relation cannot be imagined.
I shall close this chapter with the following well known
extract from a poet, whose purity of character and exquisite
sensibility have done nore than any other in our language.
to clothe virtue in her own native attractiveness:
Domestic happiness, thou only bliss
Of Paradise, that has survived the fall!
Though few now taste thee unimpaired and pure,
Or, tasting, long enjoy thee! too infirm,
Or too incautious, to preserve thy sweets
Unmixed with drops of bitter, which neglect
Or temper sheds into thy crystal cup:
Thou art the nurse of virtue; in thine arms




ï~~THE LAW    OF MARRIAGE.I I ]
She smiles, appearing, as in truth she is,
Heaven-born, and destined to the skies again.
Thou art not known where pleasure is adored,--
That reeling goddess, with her zoneless waist
And wandering eyes, still leaning on the arm
Of novelty, her fickle, frail support;
For thou art meek and constant, hating change,
And finding in the calm of truth-triedlove, "
Joys which her stormy rapture never yields.
Forsaking thee, what shipwreck have we see,
Cf honor, dignity, and fair renown!
'Till prostitution elbows us aside
in all our crowded streets.   Task.




ï~~3)"a

CHAPTER THIRD.
THE LAW OF PARENTS.
THE adaptation of the physical and moral laws under
which man is placed, to the promotion of human happiness,
is beautifully illustrated in the relation which exists between
the law of marriage and the law of parent and child.
Were the physical or moral conditions of marriage different
min any respect from those which exist, the evils which would
emn ue would be innumerable. And, on the contrary, by
accurately observing these conditions, we shall see that
they not only contain a provision for the well-being of successive generations, but also establish a tendency to indefinite social progress.
For instance, we see that mankind are incapable of sustaining the relation of parent until they have arrived at the
age of maturity, attained to considerable knowledge and
experience, and become capable of such labor as will enable them to support and protect their offspring. Were
this otherwise, were children liable to become parentsparent and child growing up together in physical and intellectual imbecility-the progress of man in virtue and knowledge would be impossible, even if the whole race did not
perish from want and disease.
Again, the parent is endowed with a love of his offspring,
which renders it a pleasure to him to contribute to its wee
fare, and to give it, by every means in his power, the benefit of his own experience. And, on the contrary, there is
in the child, if not a correspondent love of the parent, a
disposiion to submit to the parent's wishes, and to yield
(unless its instincts have been mismanaged) to his authority.
Were either of these dispositions wanting, it is evident that
the whole social system would be disarranged, and incalcu.
table misery entailed upon our race.




ï~~THE LAW OF PARENTS.

313

Again, it is evident that civil society is const'tutea by
the surrender of the individual's personal desires and propensities to the good of the whole. It of course involves
the necessity of self-restraint-that is, of habitual self-government. Now, in this point of view, the domestic society
is designed to be, as has been frequently remarked, the
nursery for the state.
Thus, the parent being of an age and having experience
sufficient to control and direct the child, and being instinctively impelled to exert this control for the child's benefit;
and the child being instinctively disposed to yield to his
authority, when judiciously exerted; the child grows up
under a system in which he yields to the will of another,
and thus he learns at home to submit to the laws of that
society of which he is soon to become a member. And
hence it is that the relaxation of parental authority has
always been found one of the surest indications of the de-.
cline of social order, and the unfailing precursor of public
turbulence and anarchy.
But still more, it is a common remark, that children are
influenced by example more readily than by any other
means. Now, by the marriage constitution, this principle
of human nature is employed as an instrument of the greatest possible good. We stated that the basis of the marriage covenant is affection, and that it supposes each party
to prefer the happiness of the other to its own. While the
domestic society is governed by this principle, it presents
to the children a continual example of disinterestedness and
self-denial, and of the happiness which results from the
exercise of these virtues. And yet more, the affection of
the parents prompts them to the exercise of the same virtues
min behalf of their children; and, hence, the latter have
before their eyes a constantly operating motive to the cultivation of these very dispositions. And, lastly, as the duty
of the wife is submission, children are thus taught, by the
example of one whom they respect and love, that submission is both graceful and dignified; and that it in no manner involves the idea of baseness or servility.
1. From  these considerations, we learn  he relation
which exists, by nature, between parents and children. It
27




ï~~314

THE LAW OF PAhItENT 5.

is the re ation of a superior to an inferior.  'he right of
the parent is to command; the duty of the cWild is to obey
Authority belongs to the one, submission to the other.
This relation is a part of our constitution, and the obligation
wnich arises from it is, accordingly, a part of our duty. It
is not a mere matter of convenience or of expediency, but
it belongs to the relations under which we are created; and
to the violation of it, our Creator has affixed peculiar and
afflicting penalties.
2. While this is the relation, yet the motive which
should govern the obligation, on both sides, is affection.
While the authority to command rests with the parent, and
the duty of submission is imposed upon the child, yet the
parent is not at liberty to exercise this authority from caprice,
or from love of power, or for his own advantage, but from
simple love to the child, and for the child's advantage
The constitution under which we are placed, renders it necessary that the parent should exercise this power; but that
parent abuses it, that is, he uses it for purposes for which
it was not conferred, if he exercise it from any other motive
than duty to God, and love to his offspring.
3. This relation being established by our Creator, and
the obligations consequent upon it being binding upon both
parties, the failure in one party does not annihilate the obligations of the other. If a child be disobedient, the parent
is still under obligation to act towards it for its own good,
and not to exert his authority for any other purpose. If a
parent be unreasonable, this does not release the child; he
is still bound to honor, and obey, and reverence his parent.
The duty of parents is, then, generally, to educate, or to
bring up, their children in such a manner as they believe
will be most for their future happiness, both temporal and
eternal.
This comprehends several particulars:
I. SUPPORT, OR MAINTENANCE.
T wt it is the duty of the parents to keep alive the helpless being whom they have brought into existence, need not
be proveQ. As to the expensiveness of this maintenaice,
I do not know that any thing very definite can be asserted.
The general rule would seem to be, that the:cle of hfe




ï~~THE LAW OF PARENTS.

315

adopted by the parent, would be that which he is required
to provide for the child. This, however, would be modified
by some circumstances. If a parent of large wealth brought
up his family in meanness and ignorance, so that they would
be specially unfitted for the opulence which they were
hereafter to enjoy, he would act unjustly. He is voluntarily
placing them in circumstances of great temptation. So, on
the other hand, if a parent, destitute of means to render his
children independent of labor, brings them up, whether male
or female, in idleness and expensiveness, he violates his
duty as a parent; he is preparing them  for a life, not of
happiness, but of discontent, imbecility and misery. The
latter, owing to the natural weakness of parental affection,
is, by far, the most common error, and is liable to become
peculiarly prevalent in the social condition of this country.
II. EDUCATION.
1. Physical education. A parent is under obligation to
use all the means in his power to secure to his children a good
physical constitution. It is his duty to prescribe such food,
and in such quantity, as will best conduce to their health; to
regulate their labor and exercise, so as fully to develop
all the powers, and call into exercise all the functions, of
their physical system; to accustom them to hardship, and
render them patient of labor. Every one knows how
greatly the happiness of a human being depends upon early
physical discipline; and it is manifest that this discipline
can be enforced by no one but a parent, or by one who
stands in the place of a parent.
By the same rule, we see the wickedness of those parents
who employ their children in such service, or oblige them
to labor in such manner, as will expose them to sickness,
infirmity, disease, and premature death. In many manu
facturing countries, children are forced to labor before they
are able to endure confinement and fatigue, or to labor vastly
beyond their strength; so that the vigor of their constitution
is destroyed even in infancy. The power of the parent
over the child, was given for the child's good, and neither
to gratify the parent's selfishness, nor to minister to his love
of gain. It is not improper to add, that the guilt and the
shame of this abuse of the rights of children, are equally




ï~~316

ThE LAW OF PARENTS.

shared betwemn tie parent who thus sells his child's hea-d
and life for gol, and the heartless agent who thus profits
by his wickedness. Nor is this form of violation of parental
obligation confined to any one class of society. The ambitious mother, who, for the sake of her own elevation, or
the aggrandizement of her family, and without any respect
to the happiness of her child, educates her daughter in all
the trickery of fashionable fascination, dwarfing her mind,
and sensualizing her aspirations, for the chance of negotiating
for her a profitable match, regardless of the character or
habits of him to whom she is to be united for life, falls under
precisely the same condemnation.
2. Intellectual education. A child enters into the world
utterly ignorant, and possessed of nothing else than a collection of impulses and capabilities. It can be happy and
useful only as this ignorance is dispelled by education, and
these impulses and capabilities are directed and enlarged
by discipline and cultivation. To some knowledge and
discipline the parent has, from the necessity of the case,
attained; and, at least, so mrich as this he is bound to communicate to his children. In some respects, however, this
duty can be discharged more effectively by others than by
the parent; and it may, therefore, very properly, be thus
devolved upon a teacher. The parental obligation requires that it be done either by a parent himself, or that
he procure it to be done by another.
I have said that it can, in part, be discharged by the
teacher. But, let it be remembered, it can be done only in
part. The teacher is only the agent; the parent is the
principal. The teacher does not remove from the parent
any of the responsibility of his relation. Several duties
devolve upon the one, which cannot be rightfully devolved
upon the other.
For instance,I. He is bound to inform himself of the peculiar habits,
and reect upon the probable future situation, of his child,
and deliberately to consider what sort of education will
most conduce to his future happiness and usefumness.
2. He is bound to select such instructors as will best accomplisr the results which he believes will be most beneficial.




ï~~THE LAW OF PARENTS.

3 17

3. He is bound to devote such time and attention to the
subject, as will enable him to ascertain whether the instructor of his child discharges his duty with faithfulness.
4. To encourage his child, by manifesting such interest
in his studies as shall give to diligence and assiduity all the
assistance and benefit of parental authority and friendship.
5. And, if a parent be under obligation to do this, he is,
of course, under obligation to take time to do it, and so to
construct the arrangements of his family and business, that
it may be done. He has no right to say that he has no
tune for these duties. If God have required them of him,
as is the fact, he has time exactly for them; and the truth
is, he has not time for those other occupations which inter
fere with them. If he neglect them, he does it to the in
jury of his children, and, as he will ascertain when it shall
be too late, to his own disappointment and misery.
Nor let it be supposed that this will ever be done without bringing with it its own reward. God has always connected together, indissolubly, our own personal benefit and
the discharge of every duty. Thus, in the present case, a
parent who assiduously follows his children throughout the
various steps of their education, will find his own knowledge increased, and his own education carried forward,
vastly beyond what he would at first have conceived.
There are very few things which a child ought to learn,
from the study of which an adult will not derive great
advantage, especially if he go through the process of simplification and analysis, which are so necessary in order to
communicate knowledge to the mind of the young. And
yet more. It is only thus that the parent will be able to
retain that intellectual superiority which it is so much for
the interest of both parties that he should, for a long time,
at least, possess. It is an unfortunate circumstance, for a
child to suppose that he knows more than his parent; and.
if his supposition be true, he will not be slow to entertain
it. The longer the parent maintain   his superiority in
Knowledge and wisdom, the better will it be for both parties.
But this superiority cannot be retained, if, as soon as the
parent enters upon active business, he desist from all effort
after intellectual cultivation, and surrenders himself a slave
27 *




ï~~318

THE LAW OF PARENTS.

to physical lal:or, while he devotes his child to mere intellectual cultivation, and thus renders intellectual intercourse
between himself and his children almost impossible.
3. Moral education.
The eternal destiny of the child is placed, in a most
important sense, in the hands of its parents. The parent
s under obligation to instruct, and cause his child to be
instructed, in those religious sentiments which he believes
to be according to the will of God. With his duty in this
respect, until the child becomes able to decide for himself,
no one has a right to interfere. If the parent be in error,
the fault is not in teaching the child what he believes, but
in believing what is false, without having used the means
which God has given him to arrive at the truth. But, if
such be the responsibility, and so exclusive the authority
of the parent, it is manifest that he is under a double obligation to ascertain what is the will of God, and in what
manner the future happiness of an immortal soul may be
secured. As soon as he becomes a parent, his decisions on
this subject involve the future happiness or misery, not only
of his own soul, but also of that of another. Both considerations, therefore, impose upon him the obligation of
coming to a serious and solemn decision upon his moral
condition and prospects.
But, besides that of making himself acquainted with the
doctrines of religion, the relation in which he stands imposes upon the parent several other duties.
It is his duty,1. To teach his child its duties to God and to man, and
produce in its mind a permanent conviction of its moral
responsibility. This is to be done, not merely by direct,
but also by indirect, precept; and by directing it to such
trains of observation aad reflection as shall create a correct
moral estimate of actions and of their consequences. And
specially should it be the constant effort of the parent to
cultivate in his child a spirit of piety, or a right feeling
towards God, the true source of every other virtue.
2. Inasmuch as the present state of man is morally im
perfect, and every individual is a sharer in that imperfecntion, it is the duty of the parent to eradicate, so far as is in




ï~~THE L4 W OF PARENTS.

319

h's power, the wrong propensities of his children. He
should watch, with ceastless vigilance, for the first appearances of pride, obstinacy, malice, envy, vanity, cruelty,
revenge, anger, lying, and their kindred vices; and, by
steadfast and unwearied assiduity, strive to extirpate them
before they have gained firmness by age, or vigor by indulgence. There cannot be a greater unkindness to a
child, than to allow it to grow up with any of its evil habits
uncorrected. Every one would consider a parent cruel,
who allowed a child to grow up without having taken
means to cure a limb which had been broken; but how
much worse is an evil temper than a broken limb!
3. Inasmuch as precept will be of no avail without a,orrespondent example, a parent is under obligation, not
only to set no example by which the evil dispositions of
his child will be cherished, but to set such an example as
will be most likely to remove them. A passionate, selfish,
envious man must expect that, in spite of all his precepts,
his children will be passionate, envious, and selfish.
4. Inasmuch as all our efforts will be fruitless without -
the blessing of God, that parent must be convicted of
great neglect of duty, who does not habitually pray for
that direction which he needs in the performance of these
solemn obligations; as well as for that blessing upon his
efforts, without which, though ever so well directed, they
will be utterly in vain.
5. Inasmuch as the moral character of the child is
greatly influenced by its associations and companions, it
is the duty of the parent to watch over these with vigil'nce, and to control them   with entire independence.
He is false to his trust, if, for the sake of gratifying the
desires of his child, or of conciliating the favor of others.
or avoiding the reputation of singularity or preciseness, he
allow his child to form associations which he believes, or
even fears, will be injurious to him. And, on the other
hand, if such be the duty of the parent, he ought to be con
sidered as fully at liberty to perform it, without remark, and
without offence. In such matters, he is the ultimate and the
only restonsile authority. He who reproaches another for




ï~~320

THE LAW OF PARENTS.

the exercise of this authority, is guilty of slander. He who,
from the fear of slander, shrinks from exercising it, is justly
chargeable with a pusillanimity wholly unworthy of the rela.
tion which he sustains.
6. As the parent sustains the same relation to all his
children, it is manifest that his obligations to them all are
the same. Hence, he is bou d to exercise his authority
with entire impartiality. The want of this must always
end in jealousy, envy, and malice, and cannot fail to render
the domestic society a scene of perpetual bickering and
contention. A striking exemplification of all this is recorded
in the history of Joseph and his brethren.
If this be so, it is evident that the violation of parental
obligation is more common, among even indulgent parents,
than would generally be supposed.
1. Parents who render themselves slaves to fashionable society and amusement, violate this obligation. The
bother who is engaged in a perpetual round of visiting and
company, and who, from the pressure of engagements to
which she subjects herself, has no leisure to devote to the
mental and moral culture of her children, violates her most
solemn duties. She has no right to squander away, in
frivolous self-gratification, the time which belongs to hei
offspring. She will reap the fruits of her folly, when, in a
few years, her children, having grown up estranged from her
affection, shall thwart her wishes, disappoint her hopes, and
neglect, if they do not despise, the mother who bare them.
2. The father who plunges into business so deeply that
he has no leisure for domestic duties and pleasures, and
whose only intercourse with his children consists in a brief
and occasional word of authority, or a surly lamentation
over their intolerable expensiveness, is equally to be pitied'
and to be blamed. What right has he to devote to other
pursuits the time which God has allotted to his cnildren?
or is it any excuse, to say that he cannot support his
family in their present style of living, without this effort. I
ask, By what right can his family demand to live in a manner which requires him to neglect his most solemn and
important duties?  Nor is it an excuse, to say that he




ï~~THE LAW OF PARENTS.

391

wiJies to leg ve them a competence. Is he under obligation
to leave theni that competence which he desires?  Is it an
advantage to them to be relieved from the necessity of
labor?   Besides, is money the only desirable bequest
which a father can leave to his children?  Surely, well
cultivated intellects, hearts sensible to domestic affection,
the love of parents and brethren and sisters, a taste for
home pleasures, habits of order, regularity and industry, a
hatred of vice and of vicious men, and a lively sensibility
to the excellence of virtue, are as valuable a legacy as an
inheritance of property, simple property, purchased by the
loss of every habit which could render that property a
blessing.
3. Nor can thoughtful men be always exculpated from
the charge of this violation. The duties of a parent are
established by God, and God requires us not to violate
them. While the social worship of God is a duty, it ought
not to interfere with parental duty. Parents who spend
that time which belongs to their children, in offices of public
social worship, have mistaken the nature of their special
obligation. I do not pretend to say what time, or how
much time, any individual shall spend in any religious
service. This question does not belong to the present discussion. But I say that this time must be taken out of that
which belongs to ourselves; and it might easily be abstracted
from that devoted to visiting, company, or idleness; it
should not be taken from that which belongs, by the
ordinance of God, to our children.
It will be easily seen, that the fulfilment of these obhlgaelons, in the manner I have suggested, would work a very
perceptible change in the whole fa)ric of society. It would
check the eager desire of accumulation, repress the ardor
of ambition, and allay the feverish thirst for selfish gratification. But it would render a family, in truth, a society. It
would bring back parents and children to the relations to
each other which God has established. It would restore to
home a meaning, and to the pleasures of home a reality,
which they are 'n danger of losing altogether. Forsaking
the shadow of happiness, we should find the substance.
Instead of a continual round of physical excitation, and the




ï~~THE LAW OF PARENTS.

ceaseless pursuit of pleasures which, as every one confesses,
crnd in ennui and disappointment, we should secure
"A sacred and home-felt delight,
A sober certainty of waking bliss,'
of which, previously, we could have had no conception.
THE RIGHTs OF PARENTS.
The right of the parent over his child is, of course, cor
mensurate with his duties. If he be under obligation to
educate his child in such manner as he supposes will most
ceiduce to the child's happiness and the welfare of society,
he has, from necessity, the right to control the child in
every thing necessary to the fulfilment of this obligation.
The only limits imposed are, that he exert this control no
further than is necessary to the fulfilment of his obligation,
and that he exert it with the intention for which it was
conferred. While he discharges his parental duties within
these limits, he is, by the law of God, exempt from interference both from the individual and from society.
Of the duration of this obligation and this right.
1. In infancy, the control of the parent over the child
is absolute; that is, it is exercised without any respect
whatever to the wishes of the child.
2. When the child has arrived at majority, and has
assumed the responsibility of its own conduct, both the
responsibility and the right of the parent cease altogether.
The time of majority is fixed in most civilized nations
by statute. In Great Britain and in the United States, an
individual becomes of age at his twenty-first year. The
law, therefore, settles the rights and obligations of the
parties, so far as civil society is concerned, but does not
pretend to decide upon the moral relations of the parties.
3. As the rights and duties of the parent at one period
are absolute, and at another cease altogether, it is reason
able to infer, that the control of the parent should be ex
ercised on more and more liberal principles, that a wider
and wider discretion should be allowed to the child, and
that his feelings and predilections should be more and more
consulted, as he grows older; sc that, when he comes to
act for himself, he may have oecome prepared for the




ï~~THE LAW OI PARENTS.

3A23

responsibility which he assumes, by as extensive an experience as the nature of the case admits.
4. Hence, I think that a parent is bound to consult the
wishes of his child, in proportion to his age, whenever this
can be done innocently; and also, to vary his modes of
enforcing authority, so as to adapt them to the motives of
which the 'ncreasmg intellect of the child is susceptible.
While it is true that the treatment proper for a young man,
would ruin a child, it is equally true that the treatment
proper for a child, might very possibly ruin a young man
The right of control, however, still rests with the parent,
and the duty of obedience still is imposed upon the child.
The parent is merely bound to exercise it in a manner
suited to the nature of the being over whom it is to be
exerted.
The authority of instructors is a delegated authority,
derived immediately from the parent. He, for the time
being, stands to the pupil in loco parentis. Hence, the
relation between him and the pupil is analogous to that
between parent and child; that is, it is the relation of
superiority and inferiority. The right of the instructor is
to command; the obligation of the pupil is to obey. The
right of the instructor is, however, to be exercised, as I
before stated, when speaking of the parent, for the pupil's
benefit. For the exercise of it, he is responsible to the
parent, whose professional agent he is. He must use his
own best skill and judgment, in governing and teaching
his pupil. If he and the parent cannot agree, the connection must be dissolved. But, as he is a professional
agent, he must use his own intellect and skill in the exercise of his owr profession, and, in the use of it, he is to be
minterfered witl by no one.




ï~~324

CHAPTER FOURTH.
THE LAW OF CHILDREN.
I SHALL consider in this chapter the ditzes and the rights
o' children, and their duration.
THE DUTIES OF CHILDREN.
I. Obedience. By this I mean, that the relation between parent and child obliges the latter to conform to the
will of the former because it is his will, aside from the consideration that what is required seems to the child best or
wisest. The only limitation to this rule is the limitation of
conscience. A parent has no right to require a child to do
what it believes to be wrong; and a child is under no obligation, in such a case, to obey the commands of a parent.
The child must obey God, and meekly suffer the consoquences. It has even in this case no right to resist.
The reasons of this rule are manifest.
1. The design of the whole domestic constitution would
be frustrated without it. This design, from what has been
already remarked, is, to enable the child to avail itself both
of the wisdom, and knowledge, and experience, of the parent;
and also of that affection which prompts the parent to-employ all these for the well-being of the child. But of these
advantages the child can never avail himself, unless he yield
obedience to the parent's authority, until he have acquired
that age and experience which are necessary to enable him
to direct and to govern himself.
2. That this is the duty of children is made apparent by
the precepts of the Holy Scriptures:
Exodus xx, 12. " Honor thy father and thy mother,
that thy days may be long in the land which the Lord thy
God giveth thee." This, as St. Paul remarks, Eph. vi, 2
3, is the only commandment in the decalogue, to which a
special premise is annexed




ï~~THE LAW OF CHILDREN.

325

In the book of Proverbs no duty is more frequently inculcated than this; and of no one are the consequences of
obedience and disobedience more fully set forth.
A few examples may serve as a specimen:
Proverbs i, 8, 9. "My son, keep the instruction of thy
father, and forsake not the law of thy mother. They shall
be an ornament of grace (that is, a graceful ornament) unto
thy head, and chains about thy neck."
Proverbs vi, 20. "Keep thy father's commandment, and
forsake not the law of thy mother."
Proverbs xiii, 1. "A   wise son heareth his father's
instructions, but a scorner heareth not rebuke."
The same duty is frequently inculcated in the New
Testament:
Ephesians vi, 1. "Children, obey your parents in the
Lord, for this is right."  The meaning of the phrase, "in
the Lord," I suppose to be, in accordance with the will of
the Lord.
Colossians iii, 20. "Children, obey your parents in all
things, for this is well pleasing unto the Lord." The phrase,
"well pleasing unto the Lord," is here of the same meaning
as "in the Lord," above.
The displeasure of God against those who violate this
command, is also frequently denounced in the Scriptures:
Deuteronomy xxvii, 16. "Cursed be he that setteth
light by his father or his mother; and all the people shall
say Amen."
Proverbs xv, 5. " A fool despiseth his father's instruc
tions."
Proverbs xxx, 17. "The eye that mocketh at his
father, and despiseth to obey his mother, the ravens of the
valley shall pluck it out, and the young eagles shall eat it."
That is, he shall perish by a violent death; he shall come
to a miserable end.
From such passages as these, and I have selected only a
very few from a great number that might have been quoted,
we learn, 1. That the Holy Scriptures plainly inculcate
obedience to parents as a command of God. He who is
guilty of disobedience, therefore, violates not merely the
command of man, but that a.so of God. And it is, there
28




ï~~126

THE LAW OF CHILDREN.

fore, our duty always to urge it, and t'.) exact it, main y a
this ground.
2. That they consider obedience to parents as no indication of meanness and servility; but, on the contrary, as
the most honorable and delightful exhibition of character
that can be manifested by the young. It is a g-aceful
ornament, which confers additional beauty upon that whlicn
was otherwise lovely.
3. That the violation of this commandment exposes the
transgressor to special and peculiar judgments. And, even
without the light of revelation, I think that the observation
of every one must convince him, that the curse of God rests
heavily upon filial disobedience, and that his peculiar blessmg follows filial obedience. And, indeed, what can be a
surer indication of future profligacy and ruin, than that turbulent impatience of restraint, which leads a youth to follow
the headlong impulses of passion, in preference to the
counsels of age and experience, even when conveyed in the
language of tender and disinterested affection?
II. Another duty of children to parents, is reverence
This is implied in the commandment, " honor thy father
and thy mother." By reverence, I mean that conduct and
those sentiments which are due from an inferior to a superior. The parent is the superior, and the child the inferior,
by virtue of the relation which God himself has established.
Whatever may be the rank or the attainments of the child,
and how much soever they may be superior to those of the
parent, these can never abrogate the previous relation
which God has established. The child is' bound to show
deference to the parent, whenever it is possible, to evince
that he considers him his superior; and to perform for hinm
services which he would perform for no other person. And
let it always be remembered, that in this, there is nothing
degrading, but every thing honorable. No more ennobling
and dignified trait of character can be exhibited, than that
of universal and profound filial respect. The same principle,
carried out, would teach us universal and tender respect for
old age, at all times, and under all circumstances.
III. Another duty of children is filial affection, or the
peculiar affection due from a child to a parenit, because he




ï~~THE LAW OF CHILDREN.

327

is a parent. A parent may be entitled to our love, because
he is a man, or because he is such a man, that is, possessing
such excellences of character; but, besides all this, and
aside from it all, he is entitled to out affection on account
of the relation in which he stands to us. This imposes
upon us the duty not only of hiding his foibles, of covering his defects, of shielding him from misfortune, and of
seeking his happiness by what means soever Providence
has placed in our power, but also of performing all this,
and all the other duties of which we have spoken, from
love to him, because he is our parent,-a love which shall
render such services not a burden, but a pleasure, under
what circumstances soever it may be our duty to rendei
them.
IV. It is the duty of the child, whenever it is by the
providence of God rendered necessary, to support his
parent in old age. That man would deserve the reputation of a monster, who would not cheerfully deny himself,
in order to be able to minister to the comforts of the de.
clining years of his parent.
THE RIGHTS OF CHILDREN.
1. Children have a right to maintenance, and, as has
been remarked before, a maintenance corresponding to the
circumstances and condition of the parent.
2. They have a right to expect that the parent will exert
-is authority, not for his own advantage, nor from caprice,
but for the good of the child, according to his best judgment. If the parent act otherwise, he violates his duty to
his children and to God. This, however, in no manner
liberates the child from his obligations to his parent.
These remain in full force, the same as before.   The
wrong of one party is no excuse for wrong in the other.
It is the child's misfortune, but it can never be alleviated
by domestic strife, and still less by filial disobedience and
ingratitude.
Of the duration of these rights and obligations.
1. Of obedience.   The child is bound to obey the
parent so long as he remains in a state of pupilage, that
is, so long as the parent is responsible for his conduct, and
he is dependent upon his parent. This period, so far as




ï~~THE LAW OF CHILDREN.

society is concerned, as has been remarked, is fixed, in
most countries, by statute. Sometimes, by the consent
of both parties, t ceases before that period; at other times,
it continues beyond it. With the termination of minority,
let it occur when it will, the duty of obedience ceases.
After this, however, the advice of the parent is entitled to
more deference and respect than that of any other person;
but, as the individual now acts upon his own responsibility,
it is only advice, since it has ceased to be authoritative.
2. The conscience of a child becomes capable of deliberate decision long before its period of pupilage ceases.
Whenever this decision is fairly and honestly expressed,
the parent ought not to interfere with it. It is his duty to
strive to convince his child, if he think it to be in error;
but, if he cannot succeed in producing conviction, he must
leave the child, like any other human being, to obey God
in the manner it thinks will be most acceptable to Him.
3. The obligation of respect and affection for parents,
never ceases, but rather increases with advancing age.
As the child grows older, he becomes capable of more
disinterested affection, and of the manifestation of more
delicate respect; and, as the parent grows older, he feels
more sensibly the need of attention; and his happiness is
more decidedly dependent upon it. As we increase in
years, it should, therefore, be our more assiduous endeavor
to make a suitable return to our parents for their kindness
bestowed upon us in infancy and youth, and to manifest,
by unremitting attention, and delicate and heartfelt affection,
our repentance for those acts of thoughtlessness and waywardness which formerly may have grieved them.
That a peculiar insensibility exists to the obligations of
the parental and filial relation, is, I fear, too evident to
need any extended illustration. The notion, that a family
is a'society, and that a society must be governed, and that
the right and the duty of governing this society rest with
the parent, seems to be rapidly vanishing from the minds
of men. In the place of it, it seems to be the prevalent
opinion, that children may grow up as they please; and
that the exertion of parental restraint is an infringement
ipon;he personal librty of the child. But all this will




ï~~THE LAW OF CHILDREN.

329

not abrogate the law of God, nor will it atvert the punishments which he has connected, indissolubly, with disobedience. The parent who neglects his duty to his children,
is sowing thickly, for himself and for them, the seeds of
his future nfiery.  He who is suffering the evil dispositions
of his children to grow up uncorrected, will find that he is
cherishing a viper by which he himself will first be stung.
That parent who is accustoming his children to habits of
thoughtless caprice and reckless expenditure, and who
stupidly smiles at the ebullitions of youthful passion, and
the indulgence in fashionable vice, as indications of a manly
spirit, needs no prophet to foretell, that, unless the dissoluteness of his family leave him early childless, his gray hairs
will be brought down with sorrow to the grave.
I remarked, at the close of the last chapter, that the
duty of instructors was analogous to that of parents, and
that they stood to pupils in a relation essentially parental.
It is proper here to add, that a pupil stands to his instructor
in a relation essentially filial. His duty is obedience:
first to his parent; and, secondly, to the professional agent
to whom he has been committed by his parent. The
equals, in this relation, are the parent and the instructor:
to both of them is the pupil the inferior; and to both is
he under the obligation of obedience, respect and reverence.
Now, such being the nature of the relation, it is the duty
of the instructor to enforce obedience, and of the pupil to
render it. It would be very easy to show, that, on the
fulfilment of this duty on the part of the instructor, the interests of education, and the welfare of the young, vitally
depend. Without discipline, there can be formed no valuable habit. Without it, when young persons are congregated together, far away from the restraints of domestic
society, exposed to the allurements of ever-present temptation, and excited by the stimulus of youthful passion, every
vicious habit must be cultivated. The young man may
applaud the negligent and pusillanimous instructor; but,
when that man, no longer young, suffers the result of that
neglect and pusillanimity, it is well if a better spirit have
taught him to mention the name of that instructor without
bitter execration.
28 *




ï~~330

THE LAW OF CHILDREN.

In ccleges and halls, min ancient days,
There dwelt a sage called Discipline.
His eye was meek and gentle, and a smile
Played an his lips; and in his speech was heard
Paternal sweetness, dignity, and love.
The occupation dearest to his heart
Was to encourage goodness. Learning grew,
Beneath his care, a thriving, vigorous plant.
The mind was well informed, the passions held
Subordinate, and diligence was choice.
If e'er it chanced, as sometimes chance it must,
That one, among so many, overleaped
The limits of control, his gentle eye
Grew stern, and darted a severe rebuke.
His frown was full of terror, and his voice
Shook the delinquent with such fits of awe,
As left him.not, till penitence had won
Lost favor back again, and closed the breach.
But Discipline at length,
O'erlooked and unemployed, grew sick, and died.
Then study languished, emulation slept,
And virtue fled. The schools became a scene
Of solemn farce, where ignorance in stilts,
His cap well lined with logic not his own,
With parrot tongue, performed the scholar's part,
Proceeding soon a graduated dunce.
What was learned,
If aught was learned in childhood, is forgot;
And such expense as pinches parents blue,
And mortifies the liberal hand of love,
Is squandered in pursuit of idle sports
And vicious pleasures."            Task.




ï~~331

CLASS THIRD.
DUTIES TO MAN, AS A MEMBER OF CIVIL SOCIETY
To tl.s class belong the duties of magistrates and citizens.
As these, however, would be but imperfectly understood,
without a knowledge of the nature of civil society, and of
the relations subsisting between society and the individual,
it will be necessary to consider these latter, before entering
upon the former. I shall, therefore, attempt to explain,
first, The Nature and Limitations of Civil Society; secondly, Government, or the Manner in which the Obligations
of Society are Discharged; thirdly, The Duties of lagis.
trate; fourthly, The Duties of Citizens.




ï~~332

CHAPTER FIRST
OF CIVIL SOCIETY.
As.i'il society is a somewhat complicated conception,
it may be useful, in the first place, to consider the nature
of a society in its simplest form. This chapter will, therefore, be divided into two sections. The first treats of the
constitution of a simple society; the second, of the constitution of civil society.
SECTION I
OF A SIMPLE SOCIETY
I. Of the nature of a Simple Society.
1. A society of any sort originates in a peculiar form of
contract, entered into between each several individual
forming the society, on the one part, and all the other
members of the society on the other part. Each party
promises to do certain things to or for the other, and puts
itself under moral obligation to do so. Hence, we see that
conscience, or the power of recognising moral obligation, is,
in the very nature of things, essential to the existence of a
society. Without it, a society could not be formed.
2. This contract, like any other, respects those things, and
those things only, in which the parties have thus bound
themselves to each other. As the individual is under no
obligation to belong to the society, but the obligation is
purely voluntary, he is bound in no other manner, and for
no other purpose, that those in and for which he has bound




ï~~OF A SIMPLE SOCIETY.

333

himself. In all other respects, he is as free as he was
before.
3. Inasmuclh as the Cormation of a society involves the
idea of a moral obligation, each party is under moral obligation to fulfil its part of the contr ict. The society is
bound to do what it has promised to every individual, and
every individual is bound to do what he has promised to
the society. If either party cease to do this, the compact,
like any other mutual contract, is dissolved.
4. Inasmuch as every individual is, in all respects ex.
cepting those in which he has bound himself, as free as lihe
was befo-e, the society has no right to impose upon the
md vidual any other obligation than those under which he
has placed himself. For, as he has come under no such
obligation to them, they have no more control over him
than any other men. And, as their whole power is limited
'o that which has been conferred upon them by individuals,
a:,.yond this limit, they are no society; they have no
power; their act is really out of the society, and is, of course,
binding upon no member of the society, any more than
upon any other man.
5. As every member of the society enters it upon the
same terms, that is, as every one comes under the same
obligations to the society, and the society comes under the
same obligations to him, they are, by consequence, so far
as the society is concerned, all equals or fellows.  All
have equal rights, and all are subject to the same obligations.
6. That which defines the obligations under which the
individual and the society have come, in respect to each
other, is called the constitution of the soe'ety. It is intended to express the object of the association, and the manner
in which that object is to be accomplished: that is to say,
it declares what the individual promises to do for the society,
what the society promises to do for the individual, and the
object for which this association between the parties is
formnned.
7. As the union of individuals in this manner is voluntary,
every member naturally has a right to dissolve the connection when hlie pleases" and the society have also a cor




ï~~334

OF A SIMPLE SOCIETY.

responding right. As, however, this would frequently
expose both parties to inconvenience, it is common, in the
articles of the constitution, or the form of compact, to
specify on what terms this may be done. When this part
of the agreement has thus been entered into, it of course
oecomes as binding as any other part of it.
II. Of the manner in which such a society shall be govzrned.
The object of any such association is to do something.
But it is obvious that they can act only on one of three
suppositions: by unanimity, by a minority, or by a majority.
To expect unanimity in the opinions of a being so diversified in character as man, is frivolous. To suspend the
operation of many upon the decisions of one, is manifestly
lnjust, would be subversive of the whole object of the
association, and would render the whole society more inefficient than the separate individuals of which it is composed.
To suppose a society to be governed by a minority, would
be to suppose a less number of equals superior in wisdom
and goodness to a greater number, which is absurd. It
remains, therefore, that every society must of necessity be
governed by a majority.
III. Of the limits within which the power of the majority
is restricted.
The majority, as we have just seen, is vested, from
necessity, with the whole power of the society.  But it
derives its power wholly and exclusively from the society,
and of course it can have no power beyond, or diverse from,
that of the society itself. Now, as the power of the society
s limited by the concessions made by each individua,
respectively, and is bound by its obligations to each individual, the power of the majority is manifestly restricted within
precisely the same limits.
Thus, to be more particular, a majority has no right to do
any thing which the individuals forming the society have
not authorized the society to do:
1. They have no right to change the object of the soclety. If this be changed, another society is formed, and
the individual memoers are, as at first, at liberty to am
with it or not.




ï~~OF A SIMPLE SOCIETY.

335

2. They have no right to do any thing beyond, or dzffer.
ent from, the object of the society. The reasons are the
same as in the former instance.
3. Nor have they a right to do any thing in a manner
different from that to which the members, upon entering
the society, agreed. The manner set forth in the constitution, was that by which the individuals bound themselves,
and they are bound by nothing else.
4. Nor have they a right to do any thing which violates
the principle of the entire social equality of the members.
As all subjected themselves equally to the same rules, any
act which supposes a difference of right, is at variance with
the fundamental principle of the compact.
And, hence, from the nature of the compact, it is obvious,
tnat, while a majority act within the limits of the authority
thus delegated to them, the individual is under a moral
obligation to obey their decisions; for he has voluntarily
placed himself under such obligation, and he is bound to
fulfil it.
And, on the other hand, the society is bound to fulfil to
the individual the contract which they have formed with
him, and to carry forward the object of the association in
the manner and in the spirit of the contract entered into.
Nor is this a mere matter of form or of expediency: it is a
matter of moral obligation voluntarily entered into; and it
"s as binding as any other contract formed under any other
circumstances.
And, again, if the society or the majority act in violation
of these engagements, or if they do any thing not committed
to them by the individual, such act is not binding upon any
member; and he is under no more obligation to be governed by it, than he would be if it were done by any other
persons, or if not done at all.
If these principles be correct, they will, I think, throw
some light upon the question of the durability of corporations. A corporation is a society established for certain
purposes, which are to be executed in a certain manrer.
He who joins it, joins it under these conditions; and the
whole power of the society consists in power to do these
things in this manner. If they do any thing else, they,




ï~~336

OF A SIMPLE SOCIETY.

when doing it, are not this society, but some other.  And
of course those, whether the minority or the majority whc
act according to the original compact, are the society; and
the others, whether more or less, are something else. The
act of incorporation is governed by the same principles.
It renders the persons so associated a body politic, and
recognised in law, but it does not interfere with the original
principles of such an association. The corporation, therefore, are the persons, whether more or less, who adhere to
the original agreement; and any act declaring any thing
else to be the society, is unjust and void.
But suppose them all to have altered their sentiments.
The society is then, of course, dissolved. They may, if
they choose, form another society; but they are not another,
of course, nor can they be such until they form another
organization.
Again, suppose that they have property given under the
original association, and for the promotion of its objects,
and the whole society, or a majority ofthem,havechanged
its objects. I answer, If a part still remain, and prosecute
the original object, they are the society; and the others,
by changing the object, have ceased to be the society
The right of property vests with those who adhere to the
original constitution. If all have changed the object, the
society is dissolved; and all ownership, so far as the
property is concerned, ceases. It therefore either belongs
to the public, or reverts to the heirs at law. A company
of men united for another object, though retaining the
same name, have no more right to inherit it than any other
citizens The right of a legislature to give it to them by
special act, is even very questionable. Legislatures are not
empowered to bestow property upon men at will; and such
grant, being beyond the power conceded to the legislator,
seems to me to be null and void.
The principles of this section seem to me to demand
the special attention of those who are at present engaged in
conducting the business of voluntary associations. It should
always be remembered, that he who joins a voluntary association, joins it for a specified object, and for no other
I'he association itself has one object, and no other. This




ï~~01 CIVIL SOCIETY.

337

object, and the manner in which it is to be accomplished,
ought to be plainly set forth in the constitution. Now,
when a majority attempt to do any thing not comprehended
within this object thus set forth, or in a manner at variance
with that prescribed, they violate the fundamental article
of tne compact, and the society is virtually dissolved. And
against such infraction of right it is the duty of the individual
to protest; and if it be persisted in, it is his duty to withdraw.
And it seems to me that, otherwise, the whole benefit of
voluntary associations will be lost; and if the whole society
do it, the society is changed, and it is changed in no manner the less because its original name is retained. If the
objects of such associations be not restricted, their increasing
complication will render them unmanageable by any form
of agency. If an individual, when he unites with others
for one object, knows not for how many objects, nor fox
what modes of accomplishing them, he shall be held re
sponsible, who will ever unite in a benevolent enterprise?
And, if masses of men may be thus associated in every
part of a country for one professed object, and this object
may be modified, changed, or exceeded, according to the
will of an accidental majority, voluntary associations will
very soon be transformed into the tools of intriguing and
ambitious men, and will thus become a curse instead of a
blessing.
SECTION II.
OF CIVIL sociiTYrv.
In order to consider this subject correctly, it will be
necessary to consider society as distinct from government.
It may exist without a government. At some time it must
have so existed. And in all cases, government is merely
the instrument by which it accomplishes its purposes.
Government is the agent. Society is the principal.
The first consideration which meets us, in the discussion
29




ï~~38

OF CIVIL SOCIETY

of tkis subject, is, that CIVIL SOCIETY IS AN -STIT 1 ION Of
GOD; or, in other words, it is the will of God that man
should live in a state of society. This may be shown both
from the original impulses common to all men, and from the
necessities of man, arising out of the conditions of his
present existence.
I. From the original impulses of man.
1. One of the strongest and most universal impulses of
our nature, is a general love for society. It commences,
as every one must have observed, with early infancy, and
Scontinues, unabated, to the close of life. The poets can
conceive of no situation more afflictive, or more intolerable,
than that of a human being in a state of perfect loneliness.
Hence, solitary confinement is considered, by all mankind,
as one of the severest forms of punishment. And, hence,
a disposition to separate one's self from society is one of
the surest indications of mental derangement. Now, the
natural result of this intense and universal impulse is a
disposition to control such other desires as shall be inconsistent with it. Wherever these dispositions exist, a num
ber of human beings will as readily and naturally form a
society as they will do any other thing on which their
happiness depends. A constitution of this sort manifestly
shows what is the will of our Creator concerning us.
2. The various forms of human attachment illustrate the
same truth.
Thus, the attachment between the sexes at once forms
a society, which is the origin of every other. Of this union,
the fundamental principle is a limited surrender of.the
happiness of each to that of the other, and the consequent
attainment of an increased return of happiness. From this
arises the love of parents to children, and that of children
to parents, and all the various modifications of affection
resulting from collateral and more distant relationships.
Besides these, there must continually arise the feeling of
friendship between individuals of similar habits and of correspondent pursuits; the love of benevolence towards those
who need our succor, or who awaken our sympathy; and
the love of approbation, which will stimulate us to deny
ourselves for the sake of acquiring the good oinion of those




ï~~OF CIVIL SOCIETY.               339
by whom we are surroundd.    Now, the tendency of all
these instincts is manifestly twofold: first, as in the former
instance, as these propensities can be gratified only by
society, we shall be disposed to surrender whatever will be
inconsistent with the enjoyment of society; and, secondly,
since it is, as we have seen before, in the very nature of
affection, to surrender our own personal gratification for the
happiness of those whom we love, affection renders such a
surrender one of the very sources of our individual happiness. Thus, patriotism, which is only one form of the love
of society, not only supposes a man to be,willing to surrender something personal for the sake of something general,
which he likes better, but also to derive happiness from that
very surrender, and to be actually happier when acting
from these principles than from any other. It is almost
needless to add, that the Creator's intention, in forming
beings with such impulsions, is too evident to be mistaken.
II. The same truth is taught from the necessities imposed
upon us by the conditions of our being.
1. Suppose the human race, entirely destitute of these
social rinciples, to have been scattered abroad over the
face of the earth as mere isolated individuals. It is evident
that, under such circumstances, the race must quickly have
perished. Man, thus isolated, could never contend, either
with the cold of the northern, or with the wild beasts of the
temperate and warmer, regions. He has neither muscular
power, nor agility, nor instinct, to protect him from the one,
nor any natural form of clothing to shield him from the other.
2. But suppose that, by any means, the race of man
could be continued.    Without society, the progressive
melioration of his condition would be impossible.
Without society, there could be no division of labor.
Every one must do every thing for himself, and at the
greatest possible disadvantage.  Without society, there
could be neither any knowledge of the agents of nature,
nor any application of them to the production of value.
A man's instruments would be almost exclusively limited to
his teeth and nails. Without society, there could be no
acknowledged right of   property.  Hence, from   these
causes, there could be no accumulated capital; and each




ï~~340

OF CIVIL SOCIETY.

successive generation o men must, like the brutes, remain
precisely in the condition of their predecessors. It is
equally evident, that, under these circumstances, there
could exist no possibility of either intellectual or moral
improvement. In fact, take the most civilized, intellectual,
and moral condition in which man has ever existed, and
compare it with the condition of man naked, wandering,
Destitute, exposed to the peltings of every tempest, and
liable to become the prey of every ferocious beast, and the
difference between these two conditions is wholly.the result
of society. If it be granted that God is benevolent, and
wills the happiness of man, nay, if 't be even granted that
God wills the existence of man, it must be conceded that
He also wills that condition on which, not merely his happiness, but even his very existence, depends.
Now, if this be the fact, that is, if civil society be an
institution of God, several important conclusions will be
seen to follow from it:
1. A very important distinction may be observed between
civil society and a. simple or voluntary society, such as is
described in the last section. In a simple society, the contract is voluntary, and is, like any other society, dissolved
at the pleasure of the parties; or it ceases to be binding
upon either party, if its conditions be violated by the other
party. But, civil society being an institution of God, specific duties are imposed upon both parties, which remain
unchanged even after the other party may, in various respects, have violated his part of the contract. In civil
society, we are under obligation to God as well as to man,
and the former obligation remains even after the other has
been annulled. In this respect, it follows the analogy of
the other relations established by God, as that of husband
and wife, parent and child, in which the one party is bound
to act in obedience to the will of God, and according to the
obligations of the relation, whether the other party does so
or not.
2. Civil society being an oroanance of God, it cannot
be justly established, upon any principles whatsoever, simply
according to the will of the parties, b.t it must be established
upon the principles which God has established. If it be




ï~~OF CIVIL SOCIETY

341

establis led upon any other principles, the evidence of his
displeasure will be seen in the mutual evil which both parties
suffer, in consequence of violating a law of their being.
Such is the case with marriage. This is a form of society
established by God. Men have no right to enter into it as
they please, but only according to the laws which God has
established; and, if they act otherwise, mutual misery will
be the result.
3. If society be an ordinance of God, it follows that
every man who conforms to the social laws of God has a
right to it. For if, in the formation of civil society, men
are under obligation to act in obedience to the will of God,
they have no right to construct it upon such principles as
will exclude any man who is willing to obey the social
laws of his Maker. No man can, therefore, justly be excluded from society, unless he have committed some overt
act by which he has forfeited this right. His original right
is to be taken for granted; the proof of forfeiture rests with
those who would exclude him. Hence, it is not enough, to
say, if a man does not like this society, he may go tc
another. So long as he violates none of his Maker's social
laws, he has a right to this society, and he cannot be excluded from it without injustice. Any course of legislation
therefore, which obliges men to leave a society, unless
their forfeiture of social right be proved, is oppressive and
unjust.
4. As society is an ordinance of God, it is evidently the
will of God that its existence be preserved. Hence, society
has a right to take all the means which may be necessary
to prevent those crimes, which, if permitted, must destroy
society itself. Hence is derived its power to punish criminals, to enforce contracts, and to establish such forms of
government as may best conduce to the well-being of the
social institution.
I suppose it to have been from a misconception of these
principles, that our forefathers erred. They conceived
that, in forming a civil society here in the wilderness, they
nad a right to frame its provisions in such manner as they
chose.  Hence, they made the form of religious belref a
subject of cvil legislation, and assumed the right of ban29*




ï~~342

OF CIVIL SOCIETY

ishing fiom tneir society those who differed from them: in
the mode of worshipping God. Their first assumption I
conceive to be an error. If society be an ordinance of
God, whenever and wherever men form it, they must form
it in obedience to his laws. But hlie has never intended
that religious belief, or religious practice, if they interfere
not with the rights of others, should be subject to human
legislation.
Secondly. OF THE NATURE AND LIMITATIONS OF THE
CONTRACT entered into between the individual and civil
society.
It has been already remarked, that every society is esFentially a mutual compact, entered into between every individual and all the rest of those who form the society. As
all these individuals enter the society upon the same terms,
that is, put themselves under the power of society in the
same respects, the power of the society over the individual is
derived from the concession of every individual, and is no
other, and in no wise different from what these individuals
have made it. And, on the other hand, as every member
of the society is a party to the contract which the society
has made with the individual, every member of the society
is bound faithfully to execute the contract thus entered
into.
But, as it was also remarked, this society differs from a
simple or voluntary society, inasmuch as it is an ordinance
of God, and it is subject to the laws which he has imposed
upon it. That every man is bound to become a member of
civil society, need not be asserted; all that I affirm is, that,
if men form a civil society, they are bound to form it according to the laws which God has appointed. They
cannot form it according to any other principles, without
violating the rights of their fellow-men, and disobeying the
laws of God.
The question, then, which meets us as of the first importance, is this: What are the laws under which God
has subjected civil society? On this question I now proceed to offer a few suggestions, considering, first, what is
essential to the existence of society; and, secondly, what is
merely accidental.




ï~~OF CIVIL SOCIETY.

343

1. Of what is essential to the existence of civil scitety.
1. As God wills the existence of civil society, it is manifest that he must forbid whatever would be inconsistent
with its existence. And, on the other hand, he who
chooses to enter society, virtually contracts to abstain from
whatever is, from the constitution of things, inconsistent
with its existence. This, I think, is as evident as that a
man cannot honestly enter into a contract to do any two
things in their nature essentially at variance.
2. Suppose, now, a number of men to meet together to
faorm a society, all being perfectly acquainted with the law
of reciprocity, and all perfectly inclined to obey it. I
think it is manifest that such persons would have to surrender nothing whatever, in order to form a civil society.
Every one would do just as he pleased, and yet every one
would enjoy fully all the benefit of the social nature of
man; that is, every one would enjoy all the blessings
arising both from his individual and from his social constitution. This, I suppose, would be the most perfect state of
human society of which we are able to conceive.
As, therefore, society, in its most perfect state, may exist
without the individual's surrendering up the right to do any
thing which is consistent with the law of reciprocity, the
existence of society presents no reason why he should surrender any right which he may enjoy consistently with this
law.  Whatever other reasons there may be, as those of
benevolence, mercy, or religion, they belong not to this
question. As every man has, originally, the right to do as
he pleases, provided he interferes not with the rights of his
neighbors, and as the existence of civil society presents no
reason why this right should be restricted, it remains, notwithstanding the existence of such society, just as it was
before; that is, the right vests, without change, in the min
dividual himself.
3. Suppose, now, any individual to violate the law of
reciprocity; as, for instance, that A steals the property of
B, or violates a contract into which they have mutually
entered. If this be allowed, that is, if every man were to
steal at will the property of his neighbor, it is manifest
that the right of r~perty wo-!d be at an end, ard every




ï~~344

OF CIVIL SOCIETY.

man would be obliged to retire as far as possible from every
other man; that is, society would be dissolved.
4. Again, suppose that B takes the work of redress
into his own hands, being, at once, his own legislator,
judge and executioner. From the native principles of the
human heart, it is evident that, from being the aggrieved
party, he would, in turn, become the aggressor. This
would lead to revenge on the part of A,-a revenge to be
repeated by the other party, until it ended either in the
destruction of one or of both. Hence, every difference
would lead to interminable war and unbridled ferocity; and
society would cease, because every man would prefer quiet
solitude to ceaseless hostility.
To allow one's self, therefore, in any violation of the
law of reciprocity, or to assume the right of redressing
one's own wrongs, is to pursue a course inconsistent with
the existence of society; for, were such a course to be
pursued universally, society could not exist.
Again, on the other hand, since, in a company of morally imperfect beings, injury is liable to occur, and since,
if injury were not prevented, the virtuous would become
the prey of the vicious, and society would, as before, be
destroyed by universal violence, it is manifestly necessary
that injury be prevented, that is, that the virtuous be protected, and that wrongs be redressed. But, as we have
shown that the rights of individual self-protection and
redress are inconsistent with the existence of society, and
as the ndividual must not redress them, the duty devolves
upon the other party, that is, upon society. Society is,
therefore, bound to do for the individual what he has relinquished the right to do for himself; that is, to protect him
from violation of the law of reciprocity, or to redress his
wrong, if this right be violated.
Hence, we see the nature of the compact entered into
between the individual and society. It essentially involves
the following particulars:
1. Every individual, by entering society, promises that
he will abstain from every violation of the law of reciprocity, which, if universally permitted, would destroy society.
For, if he he allowed to violate it, the allowance to violate




ï~~OF CIVIL SOCIETY.

345

it must be extended to all, since all are equals; and thus
society would be destroyed. But as, by the destruction
of society, he would gain nothing but solitude, which he
could enjoy without depriving others of what is to them a
source of happiness, there can be no reason assigned why
he should diminish their happiness, to procure what he
could equally well enjoy by leaving them alone. If he
join the society, he must conform to whatever is necessary
to its existence; if he be unwilling to do so, he must remain alone.
2. Every individual promises to surrender to society the
right of self-protection.
3. And, lastly, every individual promises to surrender to
society the right to redress his own wrongs.
And, on the other hand, society promises,1. To protect the individual in the enjoyment of all his
rights; that is, to enforce upon every individual, within certain limits, obedience to the law of reciprocity.
2. To redress wrongs whenever they may occur, either
by obliging the offender to do justly, or else by inflicting
such punishment as may be most likely to prevent a repetition of the injury, either by the offender or by others.
It is important here to remark, that this surrender on
the one part, and this obligation on the other part, are
mutual and universal: that is to say, the individual, on his
part, surrenders wholly and entirely the right either to
defend or to redress himself; and, on the other hand, society
guarantees to defend him, and to do him justice to the
utmost; that is, no matter in how small a right, and no
matter at how great an expense.
Hence, we see the anti-social tendency of all those"
secret societies, of which the object, either avowed or in
fact, is to protect the individual members in opposition to
the laws, that is, in opposition to society. In this case,
while the individial receives from civil society the same
benefits as other men, and expects from it the fulfilment
of its part of the contract, he does not make, on his part,
the correspondent surrender. He expects to be protected
and redressed, but he reserves also the right of protecting
and redrem.ing himself, and it may be in opposition to the




ï~~346

OF CIVIL SOCIETY.

ist operation of those laws which he enforces upon
others.
And hence, also, we see the obligation of every one to
exert himself to the uttermost, in order to enforce the
execution of the laws, no matter in how small a matter, or
in the case a how obscure an individual. The execution
of the laws is what we all promise, and we are all bound
to fulfil it. And if laws are not executed, that is, if ina.viduals be not protected, and wrongs be not redressed by
society, the individuals will redress them themselves, and
thus society will be dissolved. The frequent occurrence
of mobs, that is, of extra-legal modes of redress for supposed grievances, are among the most decisive indications
of a state of society verging towards dissolution.
But, while this contract is thus universal and obligatory,
it is to be remarked, that it is so only in respect to those
things in which the parties have respectively bound themselves. The individual, by entering into society, promises
to abstain from whatever is inconsistent with the existence
of society; but, by entering into society, he promises
nothing more. Society promises to restrain and to redress
whatever would be destructive to society, but it promises
no more. In all other respects, the parties are exactly in
the situation in which they were before the establishment
of society. Thus freedom, therefore, both of person, of
intellect, and of conscience, remain, by the fact of the
existence of society, untouched. Thus also freedom of
property remains as before, except simply in so far as a
portion of every man's property is pledged to meet the
necessary expenses of government. So long as he obey
the law of reciprocity, society has no further demands upon
him, unless his assistance be demanded in enforcing this
obedience upon others.
By this compact, every individual is very greatly the
gainer.
1. He promises to obey the law of reciprocity, which is
the law of his nature; and by the obedience t( which alone
he can be happy.
2. He surrenders the right of self-protection, which
without society he can exert in but a very imperfect man



ï~~OF CIVIL SOCIETY.

347

ner, and with nothing but the force of his individt al arm;
and he receives in return the right to wield in his defence
the whole power of society.
3. He surrenders the right of redressing his own grievances, and receives in return the right to have his grievances redressed, at whatever expense, by the whole power
of the society.
And, hence, as God wills the happiness of man, we see
another reason why society is in obedience to his will; and
why the laws necessary to the existence of society may be
considered, as they are in fact considered in the Scriptures,
as enacted by His authority.
And, again, we see that, from the very nature of society,
the individual is perfectly within its physical power. This
power of the whole, which they are bound to use only for
his protection and defence, they may use for his injury anc
oppression. And as the whole power of the society is in
the hands of the majority, the whole happiness of the individual or of the minority is always in the power of the
majority. Hence we see there is no safeguard against
oppression, except that which exists in the conditions of the
compact on which the society is formed, and the feeling of
moral obligation to observe that compact inviolably. That
is to say, the real question of civil liberty is not concerning
forms of government, but concerning the respective limits
and obligations of the individual and of society. When
these are correctly adjusted and inviolably observed, there
can be no oppression under any form of government.
When these are not understood or not observed, there will
oe tyranny, under any form whatsoever. And to a man of
sense it is a matter of very small consequence whether
oppression proceed from one or from many; from an
hereditary tyrant or from an unprincipled majority. The
latter is rather the more galling, and surely at least as
difficult of remedy.
And supposing the limits to have been correctly adjusted,
it is obvious that they will be of no avail, unless tuere he
in the community sufficient virtue to resist the temptations
which continually occur to violate them. In the absense
of this, the best constitution is valueless, or worse than




ï~~348

OF CIVIL SOCIETY.

valueless. Hence, we see the necessity of individual virtue
to the existence of civil freedom. And, hence, whatever
tends to depress the standard of individual virtue, saps the
very foundations of liberty. And hence religion, in its
purest form, and under its most authoritative sanctions, is
the surest hope of national as well as of individual happiness
II. Of the accidental modificatzons of civil society.
I have thus far treated of what is essential to the social
compact. Without such a contract as I have suggested,
society could not exist. I by no means, however, intend
to assert that these limits are exclusive; and that men, in
forming society, may not enter into contract in other
respects, besides those which I have stated.
Some of the incidental additions to the original forms of
contract are the following:
1. After having adjusted the limits of the respective
obligations, both of the society and of the individual, men
may choose whatever form of government they please for
the purpose of carrying forward the objects of society. But,
having adopted a particular form of government, they bind
themselves to whatever is necessary to the existence of that
government. Thus, if men choose a republican form of
government, in which the people are acknowledged to be
the immediate fountain of all power, they come under obligation to educate their children intellectually and morally;
for, without intellectual and moral education, such a form
of government cannot long exist. And, as the intellectual
education of the young can be made properly a subject of
social enactment, this duty may be enforced by society.
And the only reason why religious education does not come
under the same rule is, that it is not, for reasons which
have been before given, a subject for social enactment.
2. I have said that, by the essential principles of the
social compact, every man is bound to contribute his part
to the expenses, of civil society; but that, beyond this, he
is not in any respect bound. Still, this does not exclude
other forms of contract. Men may, if they choose, agree
to hold their whole property subject to the will of the
whole, so that they shall be obliged to employ it, not each
mne for his own good, but each one for the benefit of the




ï~~OF CIVIL SOCIETY.

34-9

whole society.  I say, that such a state of things migh.
exist, but it is manifest that it is not essential to soc ety;
and that, being not essential, it is by no means to be presumed; and that it cannot exist justly, unless this right
have been expressly conceded by the individual to society.
If society exert such a power when it has not been expressly conceded to it, it is tyranny. The common fact has
been, that society has presumed upon such powers, and
has exercised them without reflection, and very greatly to
social and individual injury.
3. Men have very generally been disposed to take for
granted these accidental powers, and to question or limit
the essential powers of society. An instance in point
occurs in the question of war. The very idea of war supposes the society to have the right of determining the moral
relations in which the individuals of one nation shall stand
to the individuals of another nation. Now, this power of
society over the individual has never, that I know of, been
questioned. And yet, 1 think it would be very difficult
to establish it. The moral precept is, "If thine enemy
hunger, feed him; if he thirst, give him drink."  And I do
not see that society has a right to abrogate this command,
or to render void this obligation; or that any moral agent
has the right to commit to other individuals the power of
changing his moral relations to any creature of God. Forgiveness and charity to men are dispositions which we owe
to God. And I do not see that society has any more right
to interfere with the manifestation of these dispositions, than
with the liberty to inculcate them and to teach them.
To conclude. Whatever concessions on the part of the
individual, and whatever powers on the part of society, are
necessary to the existence of society, must, by the very fact
of the existence of society, be taken for granted. Whatever
is not thus necessary is a matter of concession and mutual
adjustment; and has no right to be presumed, unless it can
be shown to have actually been surrendered. That is, in
general, a man is bound by what he has agreed to; but he
is not bound by any thing else.
I think no one can reflect upon the above considerations
without being led to the conclusion, that the cultivation of
30




ï~~350

OF C. VIL SOCIETY.

the moral nature of man is the grand means for the im
provement of society. This alone teaches man, whether
as an individual or as a society, to respect the rights of
man, as an individual or as a society. This teaches every
one to observe inviolate the contract into which, as a
member of society, he has entered. Now, since, as we
have before shown, the light of conscience and the dictates
of natural religion are insufficient to exert the requisite
moral power over man, our only hope is in that revelation
of his will which God has made in the Holy Scriptures.
In these books we are taught that all our duties to man are
taken under the immediate protection of Almighty God.
On pain of his eternal displeasure, he commands us to love
every man as ourselves. Here he holds forth the strongest
inducements to obedience, and here he presents the strongest
motives, not merely to reciprocity, but also to benevolence.
It is lamentable to hear the levity with which some politicians, and, as they would persuade us to believe them to
be, statesmen, speak of the religion of Jesus Christ; to
observe how complacently they talk of-using it as an instroment, convenient enough for directing the weak, but which
a man of sense can well enough do without; and which is
a mere appendage to the forces that, by his constitution,
are destined to act upon man. A more profound acquaintance with the moral and social nature of man, would, as it
seems to me, work a very hir portant char ge i~ *heir views
of this subject.




ï~~351

CHAPTER SECOND.
OF THE MODE IN WHICH THE OBJECTS OF SOCIETY ARE
ACCOMPLISHED.
WE have thus far treated merely of the constitution of
a society, of the contract entered into between the individual and society, and of the obligations hence devolving upon
each. The obligations of society are to protect the individual from infractions of the law of reciprocity, and to
redress his wrongs if he have been injured.
But it is manifest that this obligation cannot be discharged by the whole of society as a body. If a man
steal from his neighbor, the whole community cannot leave
their occupations, to detect, to try, and to punish the thief.
Or, if a law is to be enacted respecting the punishment of
theft, it cannot be done by the whole community, but must
of necessity be intrusted to delegates. On the principle of
division of labor, it is manifest that this service will be both
more cheaply and more perfectly done, by those who
devote themselves to it, than by those who are, for the
greater part of the time, engaged in other occupations.
Now I suppose a government to be that system of delegated agencies, by which these obligations of society to the
individual are fulfilled.
And, moreover, as every society may have various engagements to form with other independent societies, it is
convenient, in general, that this business should be transacted by this same system of agencies. These two offices
of government, though generally united, are in their nature distinct. Thus we see, in our own country, the State
Governments are, to a considerable degree, intrusted with
the first, while a part of the former, and all the latter power,
vest in the general government.




ï~~352

MODES IN WHICH THE OBJECTS OF

A government thus understood is naturally divided into
thre parts.
1. An individual may from ignorance violate the rights
of his neighbor, and thus innocently expose himself to punishment. Or, if he violate his neighbor's rights maliciously,
and justly merit punishment, a punishment may be inflicted
more severe than the nature of the case demands. To
avoid this, it is necessary that the various forms of violation
be as clearly as possible defined, and also that the penalty
be plainly and explicitly attached to each. This is a law.
This, as we have shown, must be done by delegates.
These delegates are called a legislature, and the individual
members of it are legislators.
From what we have said, their power is manifestly
limited. They have no power except to execute the obligations which society has undertaken to fulfil towards the
individual. This is all that society has conferred, for it is
all that society had to confer.
If legislators originate any power in then elves, or exer
cise any power conferred, for any purpose different from
that for which it was conferred, they violate right, and are
guilty of tyranny.
2. But suppose a law to be enacted, that is, a crime to
be defined, and the penalty to be affixed. It has reference
to no particular case, for, when enacted, no case existed to
be affected by it. Suppose now an individual to be accused
of violating this law. Here it is necessary to apply the
law to this particular case. In order to do this, we must
ascertain, first, whether the accused did commit the act laid
to his charge; secondly, whether the act, if it be proved to
have been done, is a violation of the law; that is, whether
it come within the description of actions which the law
forbids; and, thirdly, if this be proved, it is necessary to
declare the punishment which the law assigns to this particular violation. This is the judicial branch of the government.
3. After the law has been thus applied to this particular
case, it is necessary that it be carried into effect. This
devolves u~ on the third, or the executive branch of a gov
ernmnent.




ï~~SOCIETY ARE ACCOMPLISHED.

353

Respecting all of these three branches of government, it
nay be remarked in general, that they are essentially inde.
pendent of each other; that each one has its specific duties
marked cut by society, within the sphere of which duties it
is responsible to society, and to society alone. Nor is this
independence at all affected by the mode of its appointment. Society may choose a way of appointing an agent,
but that is by no means a surrender of the claim which it
has upon the agent. Thus, society may impose upon a
legislature, or an executive, the duty of appointing a judiciary; but the judiciary is just as much independ&-t of the
executive, or of the legislature, as though it were appointed
in some other way. Society, by conferring upon one branch
the right of app:intment, has conferred upon it no other
right. The judge, although appointed by the legislator, is
as independent of him, as the legislator would be if appointed by the judge. Each, within his own sphere, is under
obligation to perform precisely those duties assigned by
society, and no other. And hence arises the propriety of
establishing the tenure of office, in each several branch,
independently of the other.
The two first of these departments are frequently subdivided.
Thus, the legislative department is commonly divided
into two branches, chosen under dissimilar conditions, for
the purpose of exerting a check upon each other, by representing society under different aspects, and thus preventing
partial and hasty legislation.
The judiciary is also generally divided. The judges
explain and interpret the law; while it is the province of
the jury to ascertain the facts.
The executive is generally sole, and executes the law by
means of subordinate agents. Sometimes, however, a council is added, for the sake of advice, without whose concurrence the executive cannot act.
Sometimes the fundamental principles of the social compact are expressed, and the respective powers of the different
branches of the government are defined, and the mode of
their appointment described in a written document. Such
is the case in the  Jnited States. At other times, these
30 *




ï~~354

MODES IN WHICH THE OBJECTS OF

principles and customs have grown up in the progress of
society, and are the deductions drawn from, or principles established by, uncontested usage. The latter is the
case in Great Britain. In either case, such principles and
practices, whether expressed or understood, are called the
constitution of a country.
Nations differ widely in the mode of selection to office,
and in the tenure by which office is held. Thus, under
some constitutions, the government is wholly hereditary.
In others, it is partly hereditary and partly elective. In
others, it is wholly elective.
Thus, in Great Britain, the executive and one branch of
the legislature are hereditary; the other branch of the legislature is elective. The judiciary is appointed by the executive, though they hold office, except in the case of the
lord high chancellor, during good behavior.
In the United States, the executive, and both branches
of the legislature, are elective. The judiciary is appointed
by the executive, by and with the advice and consent of
the senate. In the State Government, the mode of appointment is vanrious.
If it be asked, Which of these is the preferablea form of
government? the answer, I think, must be conditional.
The best form of government for any people, is the best
that its present moral and social condition renders practicable. A people may be so entirely surrendered to the
influence of passion, and so feebly influenced by moral restraint, that a government which relied upon moral restraint,
could not exist for a day. In this case, a subordinate and
inferior principle yet remains,-the principle of fear; ana
the only resort is to a government of force, or a military
despotism. And such do we see to be the fact. An anarchy always ends in this form of government. After this
has been established, and habits of subordination have been
formed, while the moral restraints are yet too feeble for
self-government, an hereditary government, which addresses
itself to the imagination, and strengthens itself by the influence of domestic connections and established usage, may
he as good a form as a neople can sustain. As they adrance in intellectual and noral cultivaticn, it may advantF




ï~~SOCIETY ARE ACCOMPLISHED.

355

geously become more and more elective; an, in a suitable
moral condition, it may be wholly so. For beings, who are
willing to govern themselves by moral principle, there can
be no doubt, that a goverment relying upon moral principle,
is the true form of government. There is no reason why a
man should be oppressed by taxation, and subjected to fear.
who i willing to govern himself by the law of reciprocity. It
is surely better for an intelligent and moral being to do right
from his own will, than to pay another to force him to do right.
And yet, as -it is better that he should do right than wrong,
even though he be forced to it, it is well that he should pay
others to force him, if there be no other way of insuring his
good conduct. God has rendered the blessing of freedom
inseparable from moral restraint in the individual; and hence
it is vain for a people to expect to be free, unless they are
first willing to be virtuous.
It is on this point, that the question of the permanency
of the present form of government of the United States turns.
That such a form of government requires, of necessity, a
given amount of virtue in the people, cannot, I think, be
doubted. If we possess that required amount of virtue, or
if we can attain to it, the government will stand; if not, it
will fall. Or, if we now possess that amount of virtue, and
do not maintain it, the government will fall. There is no
self-sustaining power in any form of social organization.
The only self-sustaining power is in individual virtue. And
the form of a government will always adjust itself to the
moral condition of a people. A virtuous people will, by
their own moral power, frown away oppression, and, under
any formni of constitution, become essentially free. A people
surrendered up to their own licentious passions, must be
held inri subjection by force; for every one will find, that
force alone can protect him from his neighbors; and he
will submit to be oppressed, if he may only be protected
This, in the feudal ages, the small independent landholders
frequently made themselves slaves of one powerful chief, to
shield themselves fromn the incessant oppression of twenty




ï~~356

CHAPTER THIRD.
THIE DUTY OF THE OFFICERS OF A GOVERNMENT
FROM what has been said, the duties of the officers of a
government may be stated in a few words.
It will be remembered that a government derives its
authority from  society, of which it is the agent; that
society derives its authority from the compact formed by
ndividuals; that society, and the relations between society
and individuals, are the ordinance of God: of course the
)fficer of a government, as the organ of society, is bound
as such by the law of God, and is under obligation to perform the duties of his office in obedience to this law. And,
hence, it makes no difference how the other party to the
contract may execute their engagements; he, as the servant
of God, set apart for this very thing, is bound, nevertheless, to act precisely according to the principles by which
God has declared that this relation should be governed.
The officers of a government are Legislative, Judicial,
and Executive.
I. Of Legislative Officers.
1. It is the duty of a legislator to understand the social
principles of man, the nature of the relation which subsists between the individual and society, and the mutual
obligations of each. By these are his power and his obligations limited; and, unless he thus inform himself, he can
never know respecting any act, whether it be just, or
whether it be oppressive. Without such knowledge, he
can never act with a clear conscience.
2. It is the duty of a legislator to understand the precise
nature of the compact which binds together the particular
society for which he legislates. This involves the general
conditions of the social compact, and something more. It
generally vpecifies conditions which the former does not




ï~~THE DUTY OF THE OFFICERS, ETC.

357

contain and, besides, esta )lishes the limit of the powers
of the several branches of the government. He who
enters upon the duties of a legislator, without such knowledge, is not only wicked, but contemptible. He is the
worst of all empirics; he offers to prescribe for a malady,
and knows not whether the medicine he uses be a remedy
or a poison. The injury which he inflicts is not on an individual, but on an entire community. There is probably
no method min which mischief is done so recklessly, and
on so large a scale, as by ignorant, and thoughtless, and
wicked legislation. Were these plain considerations duly
weighed, there would be somewhat fewer candidates for
legislative office, and a somewhat greater deliberation on
the part of the people in selecting them.
3. Having made himself acquainted with his powers and
his obligations, he is bound to exert his power precisely
within the limits by which it is restricted, and for the purposes for which it was conferred, to the best of his knowledge and ability, and for the best good of the whole
society. He is bound impartially to carry into effect the
principles of the general and the particular compact, just
in those respects in which the carrying them into effect is
committed to him. For the action of others he is not I esponsible, unless he has been made so responsible. He is
not the organ of a section, or of a district, much less of a
party, but of the soczety at large. And he who use, his
power for the benefit of a section, or of a party, is false to
his duty, to his country, and to his God. He is engraving
his name on the adamantine pillar of his country's history
to be gazed upon for ever as an object of universal detestation.
4. It is his duty to leave every thing else undone. From
no plea of present necessity, or of peculiar circumstances,
may he overstep the limits of his constitutional power,
either in the act itself, or the purpose for which the act is
done. The moment he does this, he is a tyrant. Pre
cisely the power committed to him exists, and no other.
If he may exercise one power not delegated, he may exercise another, and he may exercise all; thus, on principle,
he assumes himself to be the fountain of power; restraint




ï~~358

THE DUTY OF THE OFFICERS

upon encroachment ceases, and all liberty is henceforth
at an end.   If the powers of a legislator are insuffi.
cient to accomp ish the purposes of society, inconveniences
will arise. It is better that these should be endured until
the necessity of some modification be made apparent, than
to remedy them on principles which destroy all liberty, and
thus remove one inconvenience by tak ng away the possibility of ever removing another.
II. Of judicial ojicers.
1. The judicial officer forms an independent branch of
the government, or a separate and distinct agent, for executing a particular part of the contract which society has
made with the individual. As I have said before, it matters not how he is appointed: as soon as he is appointed, he
is the agent of society, and of society alone.
The judge, precisely in the same manner as the legislator, is bound by the principles of the social contract; and
by those of the particular civil compact of the society in
whose behalf he acts. This is the limit of his authority;
and it is on his own responsibility, if he transcend it.
2. The provisions of this compact, as they are embodied
in laws, he is bound to enforce.
And hence we see the relation in which the judge
stands to the legislator. Both are equally limited by the
principles of the original compact. The acts of both are
valid, in so far as they are authorized by that compact.
Hence, if the legislator violate his trust, and enact laws at
variance with the constitution, the judge is bound not to
enforce them. The fact, that the one has violated tne
constitution, imposes upon the other no obligation to do
the same. Thus the judge, inasmuch as he is obliged to
decide upon the constitutionality of a law before he enforces it, becomes accidentally, but in fact, a coordinate
power, without whose concurrence the law cannot go into
effect.
Hence we see that the duty of a judge is to understand,
I The principles of that contract from which he de
yives his power;
2. The laws of the community, whose agent he is;.3. To explain these laws without fear, favor, or affec




ï~~OF A GOVERNMENT.

359

tion; and to show their bearing upon each individual case,
without bias, either towards the individual, or towards society; and,
4. To pronounce the decision of the law, according to
its true intent.
5. As the jury are a part of the judicial agents of the
govemrnment, they are bound in the same manner to decide
upon the facts, according to their best knowledge arnd
ability, with scrupulous and impartial integrity.
III. Of executive oficers.
The executive office is either simple or complex
1. Simple; as where his only' duty is, to perfirnm  nat
either the legislative or judicial branches of the government
have ordered to be done.
Such is the case with sheriffs, military officers, &c.
Here the officer has no right to question the goodness or
wisdom of the law; since for these hlie is not responsible.
His only duty is to execute it, so long as he retains his
office. If he believe the action required of him to be
morally wrong, or at variance with the zonstitution, he
should resign. He has no right to hold the office, and
refuse to perform the duties which others have been empowered to require of him.
2. Complex; where legislative and executive duties are
imposed upon the same person; as where the chief magistrate is allowed a vote, on all acts of the other branches of
the legislature.
As far as his duties are legislative, he is bound by the
sane principles as any other legislato:.
Semetimes his power is limited to a vote on mere con
stitutional questions; and at others, it extends to all questions whatsoever. Sometimes his assent is absolutely necessary to the passage of all bills; at others, it is only conditionally necessary, that is, the other branches may, under
certain circumstances, enact laws without it.
When this legislative power of the executive has been
exerted within its constitutional limits, hlie becomes merely
an executive officer. He has no other deliberative power
than that conferred upon him by the constitution.    He
is under the same obligations as any other executive cticer,




ï~~360

THE DUTY OF THE OFFICERS, ETC

to execute the law, unless it seem to him a violation of
moral or constitutional obligation. In that case it is his
duty to resign. He has no more right than any ot.er man,
to hold the office, while he is, from any reasqn whatever,
unable to discharge the duties which the office imposes
upon him. That executive officer is guilty of gross perversion of official and moral obligation, who, after the
decision of the legislative or judicial branch of a government has been obtained, suffers his own personal views to
nfluence him in the discharge of his duty. The exhibidon of such a disposition is a manifest indication of an
entire disqualification for office. It shows that a man is
either destitute of the ability to comprehend the nature of
his station, or fatally wanting in that self-government, so
indispensably necessary to him who is called to preside over
important business.
And not only is an executive officer bound to exert no
other power than that committed to him; he is also bound
to exert that power for no other purposes than those for
which it was committed. A power may be conferred for
the public good; but this by no means authorizes a man
to use it for the gratification of individual love or hatred;
much less for the sake of building up one political party,
or of crushing another. Political corruption is in no respect the less wicked, because it is so common. Dishonesty is no better policy in the affairs of state than in any
)ther affairs; though men may persuade themselves and:thers to the contrary.




ï~~361

CHAPTER FOURTH.
THE DUTIES OF CITIZENS.
FROM what has already been stated, it will be seen
that the duties of a citizen are of two kinds: first, as an
individual; and, second, as a nfember of society. A few
remarks on each of these will close this part of the subect.
FIRST.   As an individual.
Every citizen, as an individual, is bound to obse-ve, in
good faith, the contract which he has made with society.
This obliges him,1. To observe the law of reciprocity, in all his interccurse
with others.
The nature of this law has been already explained. It
is only necessary to remark, that society furnishes an additional reason for observing it,-a reason founded be th in
voluntary compact, and also in the necessity of obedience
to our own happiness. It may also be added, that  he
nature of the law of reciprocity binds us, not merely co
avoid those acts which are destructive to the existence ol
society, but also those which would interfere with its happiness. The principle is, in all cases, the same. If we
assume the right to interfere with the smallest means of
happiness possessed by our neighbor, the admission of that
assumption would excuse every form of interference.
2. To surrender the right of redressing his wrongs wholly
to society. This has been considered already, in treating
of the social compact. Aggression and injury in no case
justify retaliation. If a man's house be attacked, he may,
so far as society is concerned, repel the robber, because here
society is unable, at the instant, to assist him; but he is at
liberty to put forth no other effort than that necessary to
protect himself, or to secure the aggres.or, for the plurpose
31




ï~~362

6  rHE DUTIES OF CITIZENS.

of delivering him over to the judgment of society  If, afte
having secured him, we put him to death, this is murder.
3. To obey all laws made in accordance with the con
stituted Iowers of society. Hence, we are in no manner
released from this obligation, by the conviction that the law
is unwise or inexpedient. We have confided the decisior.
of this question to society, and we must abide by that dec
cision. To do otherwise, would be to constitute every man
the judge in his own case; that is, to allow every man to
obey or disobey as he pleased, while he expected from every
other man implicit obedience. Thus, though a man were
convinced that lawsregulating the rate of interest were inexpedient, this would give him no right to violate these laws.
He must obey them until he be able to persuade society to
think as he does.
SECONDLY. The citizen is under obligations as a constituent member of society. By these obligations, on the
other hand, he is bound to fulfil the contract which he has
made with every individual.
Hence, he is bound,1. To use all the necessary exertion to secure to every
individual, from the highest and most powerful to the lowest
and r.ost defenceless, the full benefit of perfect protection
min the enjoyment of his rights.
'd. To use all the necessary exertion to procure for every
individual just and adequate redress for wrong.
3. To use all the necessary exertion to carry into effect
the laws of civil society, and to detect and punish crime,
whether committed against the individual or against society. Wherever he knows these laws to be violated, he
is bound to take all proper steps to bring the offenders to
justice.
And here it is to be remarked, that he is to consider, not
merely his property, but his personal service, pledged to the
fulfilment of this obligation. He who stands by, and sees a
mob tear down a house, is a partaker in the guilt. And, if
society knowingly neglect to protect the individual in the
enjoyment of his rights, every member of that society is, in
equity, bound, in his proportion, to make good that loss, how
great soever it may be.




ï~~THE DUTIES OF CITIZENS.

363

4. It is the duty of the citizen to bear, chee: ully, his proportionate burden of the public expense. As society cannot be carried on without expense, he, by entering into
society, obliges himself to bear his proportion of it. And,
besides this, there are but few modes in which we receive
back so much for what we expend, as when we pay money
for the support of civil government. The gospel, I think,
teaches us to go farther, and be ready to do more than we
are compelled to do by law. The precept, " If a man
compel thee to go a mile, go with him twain," refers to
labor in the public service, and exhorts us to do more than
can be in equity demanded of us.
5. Besides this, I think a citizen is under moral obligation
to contribute his proportion to every effort which affords a
reasonable prospect of rendering his fellow-citizens wiser
and better. From every such successful effort, he receives
material benefit, both in his person and estate. He ought
to be willing to assist others in doing that from which he
himself derives important advantage.
6. Inasmuch as society enters into a moral obligation to
fulfil certain duties, which duties are performed by agents
whom the society appoints; for their faithful discharge of
those duties, society is morally responasible. As this is the
case, it is manifestly the duty of every member of society
to choose such agents as, in his opiAion, will truly and faithfully discharge those duties to which they are appointed.
He who, for the sake of party prejudice or personal feeling,
acts otherwise, and selects individuals for office without regard to these solemn obligations, is using his full amcunt of
influence to sap the very foundations of society, and to per
petrate the most revolting injustice.
Thus far, we have gone upon the supposition that society
has exerted its power vlthin its constituted limits This,
however, unfortunately, is not always the case. The question then arises, What is the duty of an individual, when
such a contingency shall arise?
Now, there are but three courses of conduct, in such a
case, for the individual to pursue: passive obedience, resistance, and suffering in the cause of right:




ï~~364

THE DUTIES OF CITIZENS.

1. Pas ave obedience, in many cases, would be manifestly
wrong. We have no right to obey an unrighteous law,
si;ce we must obey God at all hazards. And, aside from
this, the yielding to injustice forms a precedent for wrong,
which may work the most extensive mischief to those who
shal: come after us. It is manifest, therefore, that passive
obedience cannot be the rule of civil conduct.
2. Resistance by force.
Resistance to civil authority, by a single individual, would
be absurd. It can succeed only by the combination of all
the aggrieved against the aggressors, terminating in an appeal to physical force; that is, by civil war.
The objections to this course are the following:
1. It is, at best, uncertain. It depends mainly on the
question, which party is, under the present circumstances,
the stronger? Now, the oppressor is as likely to be the
stronger as the oppressed, as the history of the world has
abundantly shown.
2. It dissolves the social fabric, and thus destroys whatever has thus far been gained in the way of social organization. But it should be remembered that few forms of
society have existed for any considerable period, in which
there does not exist much that is worthy of preservation.
3. The cause of all oppression is the wickedness of man.
But civil war is, in its very nature, a most demoralizing process. It never fails to render men more wicked. Can it
then be hoped that a form of government can be created, by
men already worse than before, better than that which
their previous but less intense wickedness rendered intolerable?
4. Civil war is, of all evils which men inflict upon themselves, the most horrible. It dissolves not only social but
domestic ties, overturns all the security of property, throws
back, for ages, all social improvement, and accustoms men
to view, without disgust and even with pleasure, all that is
atrocious, and revolting. Napoleon, accustomed as he was
to bloodshed, turned away with horror from the contemplation of c'vil war. This, then, cannot be considered the way
Jesigned by our Creator for rectifying social abuses




ï~~THE DUTIES OF CITIZENS.

365

3. The third course is that of suffering in the cause of
right.  Here ve act as we believe to be right, min defiance
of oppression, and bear patiently whatever an oppressor
may inflict upon us.
The advantages of this course are,1. It preserves entire whatever exists that is valuable min
the present organization.
2. It presents the best prospect of ultimate correction of
abuse, by appealing to the reason and the conscience of
men. This is, surely, a more fit tribunal to which to refer
a moral question, than the tribunal of physical force.
3. It causes no more suffering than is actually necessary
to accomplish its object; for, whenever men are convinced
of the wickedness of oppression, the suffering, of 'i t,
ceases.
4. Suffering in the cause of right has m anifest tendency
to induce the injurious to review their conduct, under all
the most favorable circumstances for conviction. It disarms
pride and malevolence, and enlists sympathy in favor of
the sufferer. fence, its tendency is to make men better.
5. And experience has shown that the cause of civil
lilEv has always gained more by martyrdom than by war..,s rarely happened that, during civil war, the spirit of
true liberty has not declined.  Such was the case in the *
time of Charles I, in England. How far the love of liberty
had declined in consequence of civil war, is evident from
the fact, that Cromwell succeeded immediately to unlimiter
power, and Charles II returned with acclamation, to inflic
upon the nation the most odious and heartless tyranny b
which it was ever disgraced. During the suffering for cow
science under his reign, the spirit of liberty revived, hurle,
his brother from the throne, and established British freedom upon a firm, and, we trust, an immovable foundation.
6. Every one must be convinced, upon reflection, that
this is really the course indicated by the highest moral
excellence. Passive obedience may arise from servile fear;
resistance, from vain-glory, ambition, or desire of revolution
Suffering for the sake of right can arise only from a love of
justice and a hatred of oppression. The real spirit of
31 *




ï~~366            THE DUTIES OF CITIZENS.
liberty can never exist, in any remarkable degree, in any
nation where there is not this willingness to suffer in the
cause of justice and liberty. Ever so little of the spirit of
martyrdom is alwajrs a more favorable indication for civilization, than ever so much dexterity of party management, or
ever so turbulent protestation of immaculate patrilotism.




ï~~367

DIVISION II.
THE LAW    OF BENEVOLENCE.
CHAPTER FIRST.
GENE, AL OBLIGATION AND DIVISION OF THE SUBJECTi
WE have thus far considered merely the law of reciprocity; that is, the law which prevents our interference with
those means of happiness which belong to our neighbor,
from the fact that they are the gift of God to him. But it
is manifest that this is not the only law of our present constitution. Besides being obliged to abstain from doing
wrong to our neighbor, we are also obliged to do him good;
and a large part of our moral probation actually comes
under this law.
The law of benevolence, or the law which places us
under obligation to be the instruments of happiness to those
who have no claim upon us on the ground of reciprocity, is
manifestly indicated by the circumstances of our constitution.
1. We are created under a constitution in which we are of
necessity dependent upon the benevolence of others. Thus
we are all exposed to sickness, in which case we become
perfectly helpless, and when, were it not for the kindness
of others, we must perish. We grow old, and by age lose
the power of supporting ourselves. Were benevolence to
be withdrawn, many of the old would die of want. The
various injuries, arising from accident as well as from disease,
teach us the same lesson. And, besides, a world in which
every individual is subject to death, must abound with
wiaows and orphans, who, deprived by the hand of God of
their only means of support, must frequently either look for
sustenance and protection to those on whom they have no




ï~~368

GENERAL OBLIGATION AND

claim by the law of reciprocity, or they must die. Now,
as we live under a constitution in which these things are of
daily occurrence, and many of them by necessity belonging
to it, and as we are all equally liable to be in need of
assistance, it must be the design of our Creator that we
should, under such circumstances, help each other.
2. Nor do these remarks apply merely to the necessity
of physical support. Much of the happiness of man depends
upon intellectual and moral cultivation. But it is generally
the fact, that those who are deprived of these means of
happiness are ignorant of their value; and would, therefore,
remain for ever deprived of them, were they not awakened
to a convction of their true interests by those who ha ve
been more fortunate. Now, as we ourselves owe our
intellectual happiness to the benevolence, either near or
more remote, of others, it would seem that an obligation was
Imposed upon us to manifest our gratitude by extending the
lessings which we enjoy, to those who are destitute of
them. We frequently cannot requite our actual beuefactors,
but we always may benefit others less happy than ourselves;
and thus, in a more valuable manner, promote the welfare
of the whole race to which we belong.
3. This being manifestly an obligation imposed upon us
by God, it cannot be affected by any of the actions of men;
that is, we are bound by the law of benevolence, irrespective
of the character of the recipient. It matters not though he
be ungrateful, or wicked, or injurious; this does not affect
the obligation under which we are placed by God, to treat
our neighbor according to the law of benevolence. Hence,
m all cases, we are bound to govern ourselves, not by the
treatment which we. have received at his hands, but accordming to the law by which God has directed our intercourse
with him to be governed.
And yet more. It is evident that many of the virtues
most appropriate to human nature, are called into exercise
only by the miseries or the vices of others. How c6uld
there be sympathy and mercy, were there no suffering?
How could there be patience, meekness, and forgiveness,
were there no injury? Thus we see, that a constitution
which involves, by necess ty, suffering, and the obligation to




ï~~DIVISION OF THE JUBJECT.

369

relieve it, is that which alone is adapted to the perfection
of our moral character in our present state.
This law of our moral constitution is abundantly set forth
a the Holy Scriptures.
It is needless here to speak of the various passages in the
Old Testament which enforce the necessity of mercy and
charity. A single text from our Savior's Sermon on the
Mount will be sufficient for my purpose. It is found
Luke vi, 32-36, and Matthew v, 43---48. I quote the
passage from Luke:
"If ye love them that love you, what thank have ye?
for sinners also love those that love them. And if ye do
good to those that do good to you, what thank have ye?
for sinners also do even the same. And if ye lend to them
of whom ye hope to receive, what thank have ye? for
sinners also lend to sinners, to receive as much again.
But love ye your enemies, and do good, and lend, hoping
for nothing again; and your reward shall be great, and ye
shall be the children of the Highest, for he is kind unto the
unthankful and to the evil. Be ye, therefore, merciful, as
your Father in heaven is merciful." In Matthew it is
said, "Love your enemies, bless them that curse you, do
good to them that hate you, and pray for them that despitefully use you and persecute you; that ye may be the
children of (that is, that ye may imitate,) your Father
whioh is in heaven, for he maketh his sun to rise upon the
evil and upon the good, and sendeth rain upon the just
and upon the unjust."
The meaning of this precept is obvious from the context.
To be merciful, is to promote the happiness of those who
have no claim upon us by the law of reciprocity, and from
whom we can hope for nothing by way of remuneration.
We are to be merciful, as our Father who is in heaven is
merci fui.
1. God is the independent source of happiness to every
thing that exists. None can possibly repay him, and yet
his bounty is unceasing. All his perfections are continually
employed in promoting the happiness of his creation. Now,
we are commanded to be imitators of him; that is, to
employ all our powers, not for our own gratification, but for,




ï~~3"70

GENERAL OBLIGATION AND

the nappiness of others. We are to consider this not as an
onerous duty, but as a privilege; as an opportunity conferred upon us of attaining to some resemblance to the
Fountain and Author of all excellence.
2. This precept teaches us that our obligation is not
altered by the character of the recipient. God sends rain
on the just and on the unjust, and causeth his sun to shine
on the evil and on the good. "God commendeth his love
to us, in that, while we were yet sinners, Christ died for us."
In imitation of this example, we are commanded to do good
to, and promote the happiness of, the evil and the wicked.
We are to comfort them when they are afflicted; to relieve
them when they are sick; and specially, by all the means
min our power, to strive to reclaim them to virtue. We vre
not, however, to give a man the means of breaking the laws
of God; as to furnish a drunkard with the means of intemperance: this would be to render ourselves partakers of
his sin. What is here commanded is merely the relieving
his misery as a suffering human creature.
3. Nor is our obligation altered by the relation in which
the recipient may stand to us. His being our enemy in no
manner releases us from obligation. Every wicked man is
the enemy of God; yet God bestows even, upon such, the
most abundant favors.
"God so loved the world, that he sent his only begotten
Son, that whosoever believeth on him should not perish, but
have everlasting life." Jesus Christ spent his life in acts
of mercy to his bitterest enemies. He died praying for his
murderers. So we are commanded to love our enemies, to
overcome evil with good, and to follow the example of St.
Paul, who declares to the Corinthians, "I desire to spend
and be spent for you; though the more abundantly I love
you, the less I be loved."
In a word, God teaches us in the Holy Scriptures, that
all our fellow-men are his creatures as well as ourselves;
and, hence, that we are not only under obligation, under
all circumstances, to act just as he shall command us, but
that we are specially under obligation  act thus to ou
fellow-men, who are not only our brethren, but who are
also under his special protection. He declares that they




ï~~DIVISION OF THE SUBJE PT.

371

are all his children; that, by showing mercy to them, we
manifest our love to him; and that this manifestation is
the most valuable, when it is the most evident that we are
influenced by no other motive than love to him.
Shakspeare has treated this subject very beautifully in
the following passages:
'Tis mightiest in the mightiest; it becomes
The throned monarch better than his crown.
His sceptre shows the force of temporal power,
The attribute to awe and majesty,
Wherein doth sit the dread and fear of kings;
But mercy is above the sceptred sway.
It is enthroned in the heart of kings.
It is an attribute of God himself;
And earthly power doth then show likest God's
When mercy seasons justice.
Mer. of Venice,.ct 4, Scens 1.
Alas! alas!
Why all the souls that are, were forfeit once;
And He that might the advantage best have took,
Found out the remedy. How would you be,
If He, who is the top of judgment, should
But judge you as you are?
AMeasure for Measure,.ct 2, Scsne 2.
The Scriptures enforce this duty upon us for several
reasons:
1. From the example of God. He manifests himself to
us as boundless in benevolence. He has placed us under
a constitution in which we may, at humble distance, imitate
him. This has to us all the force of law, for we are surely
under obligation to be as good as we have the knowledge
and the abihlity to be. And as the goodness of God is
specially seen in mercy to the wicked and the injurious, by
the same principles we are bound to follow the same
example.
2. We live, essentially and absolutely, by tie bounty
and forbearance of God. It is meet that we should show
the same bounty and forbearance to our fellow-men.
3. Our only hope of salvation is in the forgiveness of
God-of that God whom we have offended more than we
can adequately conceive. How suitable is it, then, that
we forgive the little offences of our fellow-men against us!




ï~~372

GENERAL OBLIGATION AND

Our Savior illustrates this most beautifully in his parable o
the two servants, Matthew, xviii, 23---35.
4. By the example of Christ, God has shown us what is
that type of virtue, which, in human beings, is most acceptable in his sight. This was an example of perfect forbear
ance, meekness, benevolence and forgiveness. Thus, we
are not only furnished with the rule, but also with the exemplification of the manner in which the rule is to be kept.
5. These very virtues, which are called forth by suffering from the wickedness and injury of our fellow-men, are
those which God specially approves, and which he declares
essential to that character which shall fit us for heaven.
Blessed are the merciful, for they shall obtain mercy.
Blessed are the meek, blessed are the peace-makers, &c.
A tnousand such passages might easily be quoted.
6. God has declared that our forgiveness with him depends upon our forgiveness of others.  "If ye forgive not
men their trespasses, neither will your Father, who is in
heaven, forgive you your trespasses."  "He shall have
judgment without mercy, that showeth no mercy; but
mercy rejoiceth against judgment;" that is, a merciful man
rejoices, or is confident, in the view of the judgment day.
If it be asked, What is the Christian limit to benevolence,
I answer, that no definite rule is laid down in the Scriptures, but that merely the principle is inculcated. All that
we possess is God's, and we are under obligation to use it
all as He wills. His will is that we consider every talent
as a trust, and that we seek our happiness from the use of
it, not in self-gratification, but in ministering to the happiness of others. Our doing thus he considers as the evidence of our love to him; and therefore he fixes no definite
amount which shall be abstracted from our own immediate
sources of happiness for this purpose, but allows us to show
our cbnsecration of all to him, just as fully as we please.
If this be a privilege, and one of the greatest privileges, of
our present state, it would seem that a truly grateful heart
would not ask how little, but rather how much, may I do to
testify my love for the God who preserves me, and the
Savior who has redeemed me.
And, inasmuch as our love to God is more evidently dis



ï~~DIVISION OF THE SUBJECT.

373

played in kindness and mercy to the wicked and the injurious than to any others, it is manifest that we are bound,
by this additional consideration, to practise these virtues
oward them, in preference to any others.
And hence we see that benevolence is a religious act, in
just so far as it is done from love to God. It is love y, and
respectable, and virtuous, when done from sympathy and
natural goodness of disposition. It is pious, only when
done from love to God
32




ï~~374

CHAPTER SECOND.
OF BENEVOLENCE TO THE UNHAP"Y
A kAN   may be simply unhappy from either his physical
or his intellectual condition.  We shall consider these
separately.
SECTION 1.
UNHAPPINESS FROM PHYSICAL CONDITION.
The occasions of unhappiness from  this cause, are
simple poverty, or the mere want of the necessities and
conveniences of life; and sickness and decrepitude, either
alone, or when combined with poverty.
1. Of poverty. Simple poverty, or want, so long as a
human being has the opportunity of labor sufficiently productive to maintain him, does not render him an object of
charily. " 1"a man will not work, neither shall he eat,"
is the language no less of reason than of revelation. If
a man be indolent, the best discipline to which he can
be subjected, is, to suffer the evils of penury. Hence, all
that we are required to do in such a case, is, to provide
such a person with labor, and to pay him accordingly.
This is the greatest kindness, both to him and to society.
2. Sometimes, however, from the dispensations of Providence, a human being is left so destitute that his labor is
insufficient to maintain him. Such is frequ ently the case
with widows and orphans. This forms a manifest occasion
for charity. The individuals have become, by the dispen




ï~~UNHAPPINESS FROM PHYSICAL CONDITION

375

sation of God, unable to help themselves, and it is both
our duty and our privilege to help them.
3. Sickness. Here the ability to provide for ourselves
is taken away, and the necessity of additional provision is
created. In such cases, the rich stand frequently in need
of our aid, our sympathy, and our services. If this be
the case with them, how much more must it be with the
poor, from whom, the affliction which produces suffering,
takes away the power of providing the means necessary
for alleviating it! It is here, that the benevolence of the
gospel is peculiarly  displayed.  Our Savior declares,
"inasmuch as ye have done it unto one of the least of
these, ye have done it unto me." Bishop Wilson, on this
passage, has the following beautiful remark: "' Inasmuch'
(as often); who, then, would miss any occasion?  ' The
least;' who, then, would despise any object?  ' To me; '
so that, in serving the poor, we serve Jesus Christ."
4. Age also frequently brings with it decrepitude ol
body, if not imbecility of mind. This state calls for our
sympathy and assistance, and all that care and atten
tion which the aged so much need, and which it is so suit
able for the young and vigorous to bestow.
The above are, I believe, the principal occasions for the
exercise of benevolence towards man's physical sufferings.
We proceed to consider the principles by which our benevolence should be regulated. These have respect both tc
the recipient and to the benefactor.
I. Principles which relate to the recipient.
It is a law of our constitution, that every benefit which
God confers upon us, is the result of labor, and generally
of labor in advance; that is, a man pays for what he receives, not after he has received it, but before. This rule
is universal, and applies to physical, intellectual, and moral
benefits, as will be easily seen upon reflection.
Now, so universal a rule could not have been established
without both a good and a universal reason; and, hence,
we find, by experience, that labor, even physical labor, is
necessary to the healthful condition of man, as a physical,
an intellectual, and a moral being. And, hence, it is evident that the rule is just as applicable to the poor as to the




ï~~376    UNHAPPINESS FROM PHYSICAL CONDITION.
rich. Or to state the subject in another form: Labor i
either a benefit or a curse. If it be a curse, there can be
no reason why every class of men should not bear that
potrion of the infliction which God assigns to it. If it be
a bnefit, there can be no reason why every man should
not enjoy his portion of the blessing.
And, hence, it will follow that our benevolence should
cooperate with this general law of our constitution.
1. Those who are poor, but yet able to support themselves, should be enabled to do so by means of labor, and
on no other condition. If they are too indolent to do this,
they should suffer the consequences.
2. Those who are unable to support themselves wholly,
should be assisted only in so far as they are thus unable.
Because a man cannot do enough to support himself, there
is no reason why he should do nothing.
3. Those who are unable to do any thing, should have
every thing done for them which their condition requires.
Such are infants, the sick, the disabled, and the aged.
Benevolence is intended to have a moral effect upon the
recipient, by cultivating kindness, gratitude, and universal
benevolence among all the different classes of men. That
mode of charity is therefore most beneficial to its object, which tends, in the highest degree, to cultivate the
kinder and better feelings of his nature. Hence, it is far
better for the needy, for us to administer alms ourselves,
than to employ others to do it for us. The gratitude of
the recipient is but feebly exercised by the mere fact of
the relief of his necessities, unless he also have the opportunity of witnessing the temper and spirit from which the
charity proceeds.
II. Principles which relate to the benefactor.
The Christian religion considers charity as a means of
moral cultivation, specially to the benefactor. It is always,
in the New Testament, classed with prayer, and is governed essentially by the same rules. This may be seen
from our Savior's Sermon on the Mount.
He ice, 1. That method of charity is always the best
which calls into most active exercise the virtues of selfdenial and personal sacrifice, as they naturally arise from




ï~~UNHAPPINESS FROM PHYSICAL CONDITION.        377
kindness, sympathy and charity, or universal love to God
and man. And, on the contrary, all those modes of benevolence must be essentially defective, in which the distresses
of others are relieved, without the necessary exercise of
these virtues.
2. As charity is a religious service, and an important
means of cultivating love to God, and as it does this in proportion as all external and inferior motives are withdrawn,
it is desirable, also, that, in so far as possible, it be done
secretly. The doing of it in this manner removes the
motives derived from the love of applause, and leaves us
simply those motives which are derived from love to God.
Those modes of benevolence which are, in their nature, the
farthest removed from human observation, are, cceteris
paribus, the most favorable to the cultivation of virtue, and
are, therefore, always to be preferred.
Hence, in general, those modes of charity are to be
preferred, which most successfully teach the object to relieve himself, and which tend most directly to the moral
benefit of both parties. And, on the contrary, those modes
of charity are the worst, which are the farthest removed
from such tendencies.
These principles may easily be applied to some of the
ordinary forms of benevolence.
I. Public provision for the poor by poor laws will be
found defective in every respect.
1. It makes a provision for the poor because he is poor.
rhis, as I have said, gives no claim upon charity.
2. It in no manner teaches the man to help himself;
gut, on the contrary, tends to take from him the natural
stimulus for doing so.
3. Hence, its tendency is to multiply paupers, vagrants,
and idlers. Such have been its effects, to an appalling
degree, in Great Britain; and such, from the nature of the
case, must they be every where. It is taking from the in
dustrious a portion of their earnings, and conferring them
without equivalent, upon the idle.
4. It produces no feeling of gratitude towards tne benefactor, but the contrary. In those countries where poor
rates are the highest, the poor will be found the most
32 *




ï~~378    UNHAPPINESS FROM PHYSICAL CONDITION
discontented and lawless, and the most inveterate againmsi
the rich.
5. It produces no moral intercourse between the parties
concerned, but leaves the distribution of bounty to the hand
of an official agent. Hence, what is received, is claimed
by the poor as a matter of right; and the only feeling
elicited is that of displeasure, because it is so little.
6. It produces no feeling of sympathy or of compassion
tn the rich; but, being extorted by force of law, is viewed
as a mere matter of compulsion.
Hence, every principle would decide against poor laws
as a means of charity. If, however, the society undertake
to control the capital of the individual, and manage it as
they will, and by this management make paupers by thousands, I do think they are under obligation to support them.
If, however, they insist upon pursuing this course, it would
oe better that every poor-house should be a work-house; and
that the poor-rates should always be given as the wages of
some form of labor.
I would not, however, be understood to decide against
all public provision for the necessitous. The aged and
infirm, the sick, the disabled, and the orphan, in the failure
of their relatives, should be relieved, and relieved cheerfully
and bountifully, by the public. I only speak of provision
for the poor, because they are poor, and do not refer to
provision made for other reasons. Where the circumstances of the recipient render him an object of charity, let
him be relieved, freely and tenderly. But, if he be not an
object of charity, to make public provision for him is injurious.
II. Voluntary associations for purposes of charity.
Some of the inconveniences arising from poor-laws are
liable to ensue, from the mode of conducting these institutions.
1. They do not make the strongest appeal to the moral
feelings of the recipient. Gratitude is much diminished,
when we are benefited by a public charity, instead of a
private benefactor.
2. This is specially the case, when a charity is funded;
axd the almoner is merely the official organ of a distribution,




ï~~UNHAPPINESS FROM PHYSICAL CONDITION.    379
in which he can have but a comparatively trifling personal
interest.
3. The moral effect upon the giver is much less than it
would be, if he and the recipient were brought immediately
into contact. Paying an annual subscription to a charity,
has a very different effect from visiting and relieving, with
our own hands, the necessities and distresses of the sick and
tne afflicted.
I by no means, however, say that such associations are
not exceedingly valuable. Many kinds ot fharity cannot
wet. be carried on without them. The comparatively poor
are thus enabled to unite in extensive and important works
of benevolence. In many cases, the expenditure of capital,
necessary for conducting a benevolent enterprise, requires a
general effort. I however say, that the rich, who are able
to labor personally in the cause of charity, should never
leave the most desirable part of the work to be done by
others. They should be their own almoners. If they will
not do this, why then let them furnish funds to be distributed
by others; but let them remember, that they are losing by
far the most valuable, that is, they are losing the moral
benefit which God intended them to enjoy. God meant
every man to be charitable as much as to be prayerful; and he never intended that the one duty, any more
than the other, should be done by a deputy. The same
principles would lead us to conclude, what, I believe, experience has always shown to be the fact, that a fund for
the support of the poor of a town, has always proved a
nuisance instead of a benefit. And, in general, as charity
s intended to be a means of moral improvement to both
parties, and specially to the benefactor, those modes of
charity which do not have in view the cultivation of moral
excellence, are, in this respect, essenially defective.




ï~~OF UNHAPPINESS FROM

SECTION II.
OF UNHAPPINESS FROM INTELLECTUAL CONDITION
To an intellectual being, in a cultivated state of society,
a certain amount of knowledge may be considered a necessary of liLe. If he do not possess it, he is shut out from a vast
source of ernjoyment; is liable to become the dupe of the
designing, and to sink down into mere animal existence.
By learning how to read, he is enabled to acquire the whole
knowledge which is contained within a language. By
writing, he can act where he cannot be personally present;
and can, also, benefit others by the communication of his
own thoughts. By a knowledge of accounts, he is enabled
to be just in his dealings with others, and to be assured that
others are just in their dealings with him.
So much as this may be considered necessary; the rest
is not so. The duty of thus educating a child, belongs, in
the first instance, to the parent. But since, as so much
knowledge as this is indispensable to the child's happiness,
if the parent be unable to furnish it, the child becomes, in
so far, an object of charity. And, as it is for the benefit of
the whole society, that every individual should be thus far
instructed, it is properly, also, a subject of social regulation.
And, hence, provision should be made, at public expense,
for the education of those who are unable to procure it.
Nevertheless, this education is a valuable consideration
to the receiver; and, hence, our former principle.ought not
to be departed from. Although the provision for this degree
of education be properly made a matter of public enactment, yet every one should contribute to it, in so far as he
is able. Unless this be done, he will cease to value it, and
it will be merely a premium on idleness. And, hence, 1
think it will be found that large permanent funds for the
purpose of general education, are commonly injurious to the
cause of education itself. A small fund, annually appropriated, may be useful to stimulate an unlettered people tc
exertion  but it is, probably, usef. for no other purpose




ï~~INTELLECTUAL CONDITION.

381

A better plan, perhaps, would be to oblige each district to
support schools at its own expense. This would produce
the greatest possible interest in the subject, and the most
thorough su)ervision of the schools. It is generally believed that the school funds of some of our older states have
been injurious to the cause of common education.
In so far, then, as education is necessary to enable us
to accomplish the purposes of our existence, and to perform
our duties to society, the obligation to make a provision for
the universal enjoyment of it, comes within the law of
be:evolence. Beyond this, it may very properly be left
to the arrangements of Divine Providence; that is, every
one may be left to acquire as much more as his circumstances will allow. There is no more reason why all men
should be educated alike, than why they should all dress
alike, or live in equally expensive houses. As civilization
advances, and capital accumulates, and labor becomes
more productive, it will become possible for every man to
acquire more and more intellectual cultivation. In this
manner, the condition of all classes is to be improved; and
not by the impracticable attempt to render the education
of all classes, at any one time, alike.
While I say this, however, I by no means assert that i
is not a laudable and excellent charity, to assist, in the ac
quisition of knowledge, any person who gives promise of
peculiar usefulness.  Benevolence is frequently exerted
under such circumstances, with the greatest possible benefit
and produces the most gratifying and the most abundant
results. There can surely be no more delightful mode of
charity, than that which raises from the dust modest and
despairing talent, and enables it to oless and adorn society.
Yet, on such a subject as this, it is manifest that no general
rule can be given. The duty must be determined by the
respective condition of the parties. It is, however, proper
to add, that aid of this kind should be given with discretion; and never in such a manner as to remove from genius
the necessity,f depending on itself. The early struggle for
independence, is a natural and a salutary discipline for
talent. Genius was given, not for the benefit of its pos.
sesscr, but for.the benefit of others. And the sooner its




ï~~382

OF UNHAPPINESS FROM

possessor is taught the necessity of exerting it to practical
purpose, the better is t for him, and the better for society.
The poets tell us much of the amount of genius which has
been nipped in the bud by the frosts of adversity. This,
doubtless, is true; but let it not be forgotten that, by the
law of our nature, early promise is frequently delusive.
The poets do not tell us how great an amount of genius is
also withered by the sun of prosperity. It is probable that
a greater proportion of talent is destroyed, or rendered talueless, by riches than by poverty; and the rapid mutations
of society, I think, demonstrate this to be the fact.
The same principles will, in substance, apply to the case
in which, for a particular object, as for the promotion of
religion, it is deemed expedient to increase the proportion
of professionally educated men.
In this, as in every other instance, if we would be truly
useful, our charities must be governed by the principles
which God has marked out in the constitution of man.
The general principle of God's government is, that, for
all valuable possessions, we must render a consideration,
and experience has taught, that it is impossible to vary
from this rule, without the liability of doing injury to the
recipient.  The reason is obvious; for we can scarcely, in
any other manner, injure another so seriously, as by leading him to rely on any one else than himself, or to feel
that the public are under obligations to take charge of him.
Hence, charity of this sort should be governed by the
following principles:
1. The recipient should receive no more than is necessary, with his own industrious exertions, to accomplish the
object.
2. To loan money is better than to give it.
3. It should be distributed in such manner as most
successfully to cultivate the good dispositions of both
parties.
Hence, private and personal assistance, when practicable, has some advantages over that derived from associations. And, hence, such supervision is always desirable, as
will restrict the charity to that class of persons for whom
" was designed, and as will render it of such a nature,




ï~~INTELLECTUAL CONDITION.

383

that those of every other class would be under the least
possible temptation to desire it.
And, in arranging the plan of such an association, it
should always be borne in mind, that the sudden change in
all the prospects of a young man's life. which is made by
setting before him the prospect of a professional education,
is one of the severest trials of human virtue.
Public provision for scientific education, does not come
under the head of benevolence. Inasmuch, however, as
the cultivation of science is advantageous to all classes of
a community, it is for the interest of the whole that it be
cultivated. But the means of scientific education, as philosophical instruments, libraries, and buildings, could never
be furnished by instructors, without rendering this kind of
education so expensive as to restrict it entirely to the rich.
It is, therefore, wise for a community to make these provisions out of the comn non stock, so that a fair opportunity
of improvement may be open to all. When, however, the
public fails to discharge this duty, it is frequently, with
great patriotism and benevolence, assumed by individuals.
I know of no more interesting instances of expansive benevolence, than those in which wealth is appropriated to the
noble purpose of diffusing over all coming time, "the light
of science and the blessings of religion."  Who can estimate the blessings which the founders of Oxford and Cambridge universities have conferred upon the human race!




ï~~384

CHAPTER THIRD.
BENEVOLENCE TO THE WICKED.
WE nOW come to treat of a form of benevolence, in
which other elements are combined. What is our duty to
our fellow-men who are wicked?
A wicked man is, from the nature of the case, unhappy.
He is depriving himself of all the pleasures of virtue; he
is giving strength to those passions, which, by their ungovernable power, are already tormenting him with insatiable and ungratified desire; he is incurring the pains of a
guilty conscience here, and he is, in the expressive language
of the Scriptures, " treasuring up wrath, against the day of
wrath and of righteous indignation." It is manifest, then,
that no one has stronger claims upon our pity, than such a
fellow-creature as this.
So far, then, as a wicked man is miserable or unhappy,
he is entitled to our pity, and, of course, to our love and
benevolence. But this is not all. He is also wicked; and
the proper feeling with which we should contemplate
wickedness, is that of disgust, or moral indignation. Hence,
a complex feeling in such a case naturally arises---that of
benevolence, because he is unhappy; and, that of moral
indignation, because he is sinful. These two sentiments,
however, in no manner conflict with, but on the, contrary,
if properly understood, strengthen each other.
The fact of a fellow-creature's wickedness, affects not
our obligation to treat him with the same benevolence as
would be demanded in any other case. If he is necessitous, or sick, or afflicted, or ignorant, our duty to relieve,
and sympathize with, and assist, and teach him, are the
same as though hlie were virtuous. God sends his rain on
the evil and on the good.
But especially, as the most a arming source of his mis.




ï~~BENEVOLENCE TO THE WICKED.

385

ery is his moral character, the more we detest L is wvckedness, the more strongly would benevolence urge us to
make every effort in our power to reclaim him. This,
surely, is the highest exercise of charity; for virtue is the
true solace against all the evils incident to the present life,
and it is only by being virtuous that we can hope for eternal
felicity.
We are hound, then, by the law of benevolence, to labor
to reclaim the wicked:1. By example, by personal kindness, by conversation,
and by instructing them in the path of duty, and persuading
them to fofw it.
2. As*the most efficacious mode of promoting moral reformation, yet discovered, is found to be the inculcation of
the truths of the Holy Scriptures; it is our imperative duty
to bring these truths into contact with the consciences of
men. This duty is, by our Savior, imposed upon all his
disciples: " Go ye into all the world, and preach the gospel to every creature."
3. As all men are our brethren, and as all men equally
need moral light, and as experience has abundantly shown,
that all men will be both wicked and unhappy without it,
this duty is binding upon every man towards the whole
human race. The sentiments of Dr. Johnsn on this subject, in his letter on the translation of the Scriptures into
the Gaelic language, are so apposite to my purpose, that I
beg leave to introduce them here, though they have been
so frequently published. "If obedience to the will of God
be necessary to happiness, and knowledge of his will necessary to obedience, I know not how he that withholds this
knowledge, or delays it, can be said to love his neighbor as
himself. He that voluntarily continues in ignorance is guilty
of all the crimes which that ignorance produces; as, to him
that should extinguish the tapers of a light-house, might be
justly imputed the calamities of shipwrecks. Christianity is
the highest perfection of humanity; and as no man is good
but as he wishes the good of others, no man can be good in
the highest degree who wishes not to others the largest
measures of the greatest good."-Life, Anno 1766.
We see, then, that, in so far as wicked men are by their
33




ï~~386

BENEVOLENCE TO THE WICKED.

wickedness miserable, benevolence renders it our duty tL
reclaim them. And to such benevolence the highest rewards are promised. "They that turn many to righteousness shall shine as the stars for ever and ever." But this
is not all. If we love our Father in heaven, it must pain
us to see his children violating his just and holy laws,
abusing his goodness, rendering not only tnemselves but
also his other children miserable, and exposing themselves
and others to his eternal displeasure. The love of God
would prompt us to check these evils, and to teach our
brethren to serve, and love, and reverence our common
Father, and to become his obedient children, both now and
for ever."
Nor is either of these sentiments inconsistent with the
greatest moral aversion to the crime. The more hateful
to us is the conduct of those whom we love, the more
zealous will be our endeavors to bring them back to virtue
And surely the more we are sensible of the evil of sin
against God, the more desirous must we be to teach his
creatures to love and obey him.
The perfect exemplification of both of these sentiments
is found in the character of our Lord and Savior Jesus
Christ. While, in all his conduct and teachings, we observe
the most intense abhorrence of every form of moral evil, yet
we always find t combined with a love for the happiness,
both temporal and spiritual, of man; which, in all its bearings, transcends the limits of finite comprehension. This is
the example which God has held forth for our imitation.
It would be easy to show that the improvement of the
moral character of our fellow-men is also the surest method
of promoting their physical, intellectual, and social hap.
piness.




ï~~387

CHAPTER FOURTH.
BENEVOLENCE TOWARD THE.NJURIOUS.
THE ca.;es to be considered here are three:
I. Where injury is committed by an individur upon an
ndividual.
II. Where injury is committed by an individual upon
society.
III. Where injury is committed by a society upon a
society.
I. Where an injury is committed by an individual upon
an individual.
In this case, the offender is guilty of wickedness, and of
violation of our personal rights.
1. In so far as the action is wicked, it should excite our
moral detestation, just as in the case in which wrong is done
to any one else.
2. In so far as the wicked man is unhappy, he should
excite our pity, and our active effort to benefit him.
3. As the cause of this unhappiness is moral wrong, it is
our duty to reclaim him.
4. Inasmuch as the injury is done to us, it is our duty to
forgive him. On this condition alone can we hope to be
forgiven.
5. Yet more; inasmuch as the injury is done to us, it
gives us an opportunity of exercising special and peculiar
virtue. It is therefore our special duty to overcome it by
good; that is, the duty of reclaiming him from wrong rests
specially upon us; and is it to be fulfilled by manifesting
towards him particular kindness, and the most cheerful
willingness to serve him. "Be not overcome of evil, but
overcome evil with good." That is, it is our special duty,
by an exhibition of peculiar benevolence, to reclaim the
'ijurious person to virtue.




ï~~X88     BENEVOLENCE TOWARD THE INJURIOUS.
Such is plainly the teaching of the Holy Scriptures. It
will require but a few words to show that this is the course
of conduct indicated by the conditions of our being.
1. I think that every one must acknowledge this to be
the course pointed out by the most exalted virtue. Every
man's conscience testifies, that to reward evil with good
is noble, while the opposite course is mean. There is
nothing more strongly indicative of littleness of spirit, than
revenge.
2. This mode of treating injuries has a manifest tendency
to put an end to injury, and every form of ill-will:
For, 1. No man can long continue to injure him, who
requites injury with nothing but goodness.
2. It improves the heart of the offender, and thus not
only puts an end to the injury at that particular time, but
also greatly diminishes the probability of its recurrence at
any subsequent time. Were this course universally pursued, there would be done on earth the least possible injury.
3. It improves, in the most signal manner, the offended
person himself; and thus renders it less likely that he will
ever commit an injury himself.
In a word, the tendency of this mode of treating an injurious person, is to diminish indefinitely the liability to injury,
and to render all parties both happier and better.
On the contrary, the tendency of retaliation is exactly
the reverse. We should consider,
1. That the offender is a creature of God, and we are
bound to treat him as God has commanded. Now, no
treatment which we have received from another, gives us,
by the law of God, any right to treat him in any other
manner than with kindness. That he has violated his duty
towards us and towards God, affords no reason why we
should be guilty of the same crimes.
2. The tendency of retaliation is, to increase, ar d foster, and multiply wrongs, absolutely without end. Such,
we see, is its effect among savage nations.
3. Retaliation renders neither party better, but always
renders both parties worse. The offended party who retaliates; does a mean action when he might have done a
noble one.




ï~~BENEVOLENCE TOWARD THE INJURIOUS.

389

Such, then, is the scriptural mode of adjusting individual
differences.
II. When the individual has committed an injury against
society.
Such is the case when an offender has violated a law of
society and comes under its condemnation. In what way
and on what principles is society bound to treat him?
1. The crime being one which, if permitted, would
greatly injure if not destroy society, it is necessary that it
be prevented. Society has, therefore, a right to take such
measures as will insure its prevention. This prevention
may always be secured by solitary confinement.
But, this being done, society is under the same obligations to the offender, as the several individuals composing
the society are under to him. Hence,2. They are bound to seek his happiness by reclaiming
him; that is, to direct all treatment of him, while under
their care, with distinct reference to his moral improvement
This is the law of benevolence, and it is obligatory no less
on societies than on, individuals. Every one must see that
the tendency of a system of prison discipline of this kind
must be to diminish crime; while that of any other system
must be, and always has been, to increase it.
Nor is this chimerical. The whole history of prisons has
tended to establish precisely this result. Prisons which
have been conducted on the principle of retaliation, have
every where multiplied felons; while those which have
been conducted on the principle of rendering a prison a
school of moral reformation, have, thus far, succeeded beyond
even the anticipations of their friends. Such a prison is
also the greatest terror to a wicked man; and it ceases not
to be so, until he becomes, at least, comparatively virtuous.
The whole experience of John Howard is summed up by
himself in a single sentence: "It is in vain to pumnish the
wicked, unless you seek to reclaim them."
By what I have said above, I would not be understood
to diny the right of society to punish murder by death,
This right, I think, however, is to be established, not by
the principles of natural law, but by the command of God
to Noah. The precept, in this case, seems to me to have
33 *




ï~~390    LEN  7OLENCE I OWARD THE INJURIOUS.

bee given to the whole human race, and to be still obli
gatcry.
III. Where one society violates the rights of anothe
society. The principles of the gospel, already explained,
apply equally to this as to the preceding cases.
1. The individual has, by the law of God, no right to
return evil for evil; but is bound to conduct towards every
other individual, of what nation soever, upon the principle
of charity.
2. The individual has no right to authorize society to do
any thing contrary to the law of God; that is to say, men
connected in societies are under the same moral law as
individuals. What is forbidden to the one is forbidden also
to the other.
3. Hence, I think we must conclude that an injury is to
be treated in the same manner; that is, that we are under
obligation to forgive the offending party, and to strive to
render him both better and happier.
4. Hence, it would seem that all wars are contrary to
the revealed will of God, and that the individual has no
right to commit to society, nor society to commit to government, the power to declare war.
Such, I must confess, seems to me to be the will of our
Creator; and, hence, that, to all arguments brought in
favor of war, it would be a sufficient answer, that God has
forbidden it, and that no consequences can possibly be conceived to arise from keeping his law, so terrible as those
which must arise from violating it. God commands us to
love every man, alien or citizen, Samaritan or Jew, as ourselves; and the act neither of society nor of government can
render it our duty to violate this command.
But let us look at the arguments offered in support of
war.
The miseries of war are acknowledged. Its expense,
at last, begins to be estimated. Its effects upon the physical, intellectual, and moral condition of a nation, are deplored. It is granted to be a most calamitous remedy for
evils, and the most awful scourge that can be inflicted upon
the human rr.ce. It will be granted, then, that the resort
to it, if not necessary, must be intensely wicked: and that




ï~~BENEVO. ENCE T'OWARD THE INJURIOUS.

391

if it be not in the highest degree useful, it ought to be universally abolished.
It is also granted, that the universal abolition of war
would be one of the greatest blessings that could be conferred upon the human race. As to the general principle,
then, there is no dispute. The only question which arises
s, whether it be not necessary for one nation to act upon
the principle of offence and defence so long as other nations
continue to do the same?
I answer, first. It is granted that it would be better
for man in general, if wars were abolished, and all means,
both of offence and defence, abandoned. Now, this seems
to me to admin, that this is the law under which God has
created man. But this being admitted, the question seems
to be at an end; for God never places men under circumstances in which it is either wise, or necessary, or innocent,
to violate his laws. Is it for the advantage of him who
lives among a community of thieves, to steal; or for one
who lives among a community of liars, to lie? On the
contrary, do not honesty and veracity, under these very
circumstances, give him additional and peculiar advantages
over his companions?
Secondly. Let us suppose a nation to abandon all
means, both of offence and of defence, to lay aside all
power of inflicting injury, and to rely for self-preservation
solely upon the justice of its own conduct, and the moral
effect which such a course of conduct would produce upon"
the consciences of men. How would such a nation procure redress of grievances? and how would it be protected
from foreign aggression?
I. Of redress of grievances. Under this head would
be comprehended violation of treaties, spoliation of property,
and ill-treatment orF its citizens.
I reply, 1. The very fact that a nation relied solely upon
the jusice of its measures, and the benevolence of its conduct, would do more than any thing else to prevent the
occurrence of injury. The moral sentiment of every com
munity would rise 'n opcosition to injury inflicted upon the
'ust, the kind, anc the merciful. Thus, by this course, the




ï~~,392    BENE1 )LENCE TOWARD THE INJURIOUS.
probabilities of aggression are rendered as few as the nature
of man will permit.
2. But suppose injury to be done. I reply, the proper
appeal for moral beings upon moral questions, is not to
physical force, but to the consciences of men. Let the
wrong be set forth, but be set forth in the spirit of love;
and in this manner, if in any, will the consciences of men
be arousnd to justice.
3. But suppose this method to fail. Why, then, let us
suffer the injury. This is the preferable evil of the tw o.
Because they have injured us a little, it does not follow
that we should injure ourselves much. But it will be said,
what is then to become of our national honor?  I answer,
first, if we have acted justly, we surely are not dishonored.
The dishonor rests upon those who have done wickedly.
I answer again, national honor is displayed in forbearance,
in forgiveness, in requiting faithlessness with fidelity, and
grievances with kindness and good will. These virtues are
surely as delightful and as honorable in nations as in individuals.
But it may be asked, what is to prevent repeated and
continued aggression? I answer, first, not instruments of
destruction, but the moral principle which God has placed
in the bosom of every man. I think that obedience to the
law of God, on the part of the injured, is the surest preventive against the repetition of injury. I answer, secondly,
suppose that acting in obedience to the law of benevolence
will not prevent the repetition of injury, will acting upon the
principle of retaliation prevent it?  This is really the true
question. The evil tempers of the human heart are allowed to exist, and we are inquiring in what manner shall
we suffer the least injury from them; whether by obeying
the law of benevolence, or that of retaliation? It is not
necessary, therefore, to show, that, by adopting the law of
benevolence, we shall not suffer at all; but that, by adopting it, we shall suffer less than by the opposite course; and
that a nation would actually thus suffer less upon the whole
than by any other course, cannot, I think, be doubted by
any one who will cahlnl: reflect upon the subject.




ï~~JLNEVLENCF TOWARD THE INJURIOUS.

393

II. How woi.d such a nation be protected from externa1
attack and entire subjugation?  I answer, by adopting the"
law of benevolence, a nation would render such an event
in the highest degree improbable. The causes of national
war are most commonly, the love of plunder, and the love
of glory. The first of these is rarely, if ever, sufficient to
stimulate men to the ferocity necessary to war, unless when
assisted by the second. And by adopting as the rule
of our conduct the law of benevolence, all motive arising
from the second cause is taken away. There is not a
nation in Europe that could be led on to war against a
harmless, just, forgiving, and defenceless people.
But suppose such a case really should occur, what are
we then to do?  I answer, is it certain that we can do better
than suffer injury with forgiveness and love, looking up to
God, who, in his holy habitation, is the Judge of the whole
earth? And if it be said, we shall then all be subjected
and enslaved, I answer again, have wars prevented men
from being subjected and enslaved? Is there a nation on
the continent of Europe that has not been overrun by
foreign troops several times, even within the present century?  And still more, is it not most commonly the case,
that the very means by which we repel a despotism from
abroad, only establishes over us a military despotism at
home?  Since, then, the principle of retaliation will not,
with any certainty, save a country from conquest, the real
question, as before, is, by obedience to which law will a
nation be most likely to escape it, by the law of retaliation,
or by that of benevolence? It seems to me, that a man
who will calmly reflect, will see that the advantages of
war, even in this respect, are much less than they have
been generally estimated.
I however would by no means assert that forgiveness of
injuries alone is a sufficient protection against wrong. I
suppose the real protection to be active benevolence. The
Scriptures teach us that God has created men, both as individuals and as societies, under the law of benevolence;
and that he intends this law to be obeyed. Societies have
never yet thought of obeying it in their dealings with each
other; and men generally consider the allusion to it as




ï~~34      BENEVOLENtL E TOWARD THE INJUILIOUS.
puerile. But this alters not the law of God, nor the punishments which he inflicts upon nations for the violation of
it. This punishment I suppose to be war. I believe
aggression from a foreign nation to be the intimation from
God that we are disobeying the law of benevolence, and
that this is his mode of teaching nations their duty, in this
respect, to each other. So that aggression seems to me in
no manner to call for retaliation and injury, but rather
to call for special kindness and good will. And still
farther, the requiting evil with good, tends just as strongly
to the cessation of all injury, in nations as in individuals.
Let any man reflect upon the amount of pecuniary expenditure, and the awful waste of human life, which the wars
of the last hundred years have occasioned, and then I will
ask him whether it be not evident, that the one hundredth
part of this expense and suffering, if employed in the
honest effort to render mankind wiser and better, would,
long before this time, have banished wars from the earth,
and rendered the civilized world like the garden of Eden.
If this be true, it will follow, that the cultivation of a
military spirit is injurious to a community, inasmuch as it
aggravates the source of the evil, the corrupt passions of
the human heart, by the very manner in which it attempts
to correct the evil itself.
I am aware that all this may be called visionary, romantic, and chimerical. This, however, neither makes it so,
nor shows it to be so. The time to apply these epithets
will be, when the justness of their' application has been
proved. And if it be said, these principles may all be
very true, but you can never induce nations to act upon
them; I answer, If they be true, then God requires us
thus to act; and if this be the case, then that nation will be
the happiest and the wisest, which is the first to obey his commandments. And, if it be said, that though all this be so,
yet such is the present state of man, that until his social
character oe altered, the necessity of wars will exist; I
answer; first, it is a solemn thing to meet the punishments
which God inflicts for the transgression of his laws. And,
secondly, inasmuch as the reason for this necessity arises
from the social wickedness of man, we are under impera



ï~~OUR DUTY TO BRUTES.

395

t e obligations to sti e to render that wickedness less;
a d, by all the means in our power, to cultivate among
natics a spirit of mutual kindness, forbearance, justice and
benevolence.
NOTE. I should be guilty of injus.ice to one class of
my fellow-creatures, if I should close this treatise upon
human duty, without a single remark upon our obligations
to brutes.
Brutes are sensitive beings, capable of, probably, as
great degrees of physical pleasure and pain as ourselves.
They are endowed with instinct which is, probably, a form
of intellect inferior to our own, but which, being generically unlike to ours, we are unable to understand. They
differ from us chiefly in being destitute of any moral
faculty.
We do not stand to them   in the relation of equality.
"Our right is paramount, and must extinguish theirs."
We have, therefore, a right to use them to promote our
3omfort, and may innocently take their life, if our necessities demand it. This righL over them, is given to us by
the revealed will of God But, inasmuch as they, like
ourselves, are the creatures of God, we have no right to
use them in any other manner than that which God has
permitted. They, as much as ourselves, are under his
protection.
We may, therefore, use them, 1. For our necessities
We are designed to subsist upon animal food; and we may
innocently slay them for this purpose.
2. We may use them for labor, or for innocent physical
recreation, as when we employ the horse for draught, or for
the saddle.
3. But, while we so use them, we are bound to treat
them kindly, to furnish them with sufficient food, and with
convenient shelter. He who cannot feed a brute well
ought not to own one  And when we put them to death
it should ae with the least possible pain.
4. We are forbidden to treat them unkindly on any pre




ï~~:j96           OUR DUTY TO BRUTES.
tence, or for any reason. There can be no clearer indica
tion of a degraded and ferocious temper, than cruelty t(
animals. Hunting, in many cases, and horse-racing, seem
to me liable to censure in this respect. Why should a
man, for the sake of showing his skill as a marksman
shoot down a poor animal, which he does not need for
food? Why should not the brute, that is harming no
living thing, be permitted to enjoy the happiness of its
physical nature unmolested? " There they are privileged;
and he that hurts or harms them there. is guilty of a
wrong."
5. Hence, all amusements which consist in inflicting
pain upon animals, such as bull-baiting, cock-fighting, &c.,
are purely wicked. God never gave us power over animals for such purposes. I can scarcely conceive of a
more revolting exhibition of human nature, than that which
is seen when men assemble to witness the misery which
brutes inflict upon each other. Surely, nothing can tend
more directly to harden men in worse than brutal ferocity.




ï~~IMPORTANT
LITERARY AND SCIENTIFIC WORKS,
PUBLISHED       BY
GOULD AND LINCOLN,
59 WASHINGTON       STREET, BOSTON.
ANNUAL OF SCIENTIFIC DISCOVERY;
Or, Year Book of Facts in Science and Art. By DAVID A. WELLS, A. M.l 12mo,
cloth, $1.25.
This work, commenced in the year 1850, and issued in the month of January, annually, embraces
an enumeration and description of every important Invention, Discovery, or Scientific Theory, reported during the year. Each volume is distinct in itself, and contains ENTIRELY NEW MATTER,
with a fine portrait of some person distinguished for his attainments in science and art.
LAKE SUPERIOR;
Its Physical Character, Vegetation, and Animals. By L. AGASSIZ, and others. One
volume, octavo, elegantly Illustrated. Cloth, $3.50.
THE PLURALITY OF WORLDS.
New Edition. With a SUPPLEMENTARY DIALOGUE, in which the author's reviewers are reviewed. 12mo, cloth, $1.00.
This masterly production, which has excited so much interest in this country and in Europe, will
now have increased attraction in the SUPPLEMENT, in which the author's reviewers are triumphantly
reviewed.
COMPARATIVE ANATOMY OF THE ANIMAL KINGDOM.
By Prof. C. TH. Vow SIEBOLD and H. STANNIUS.       Translated, with Notes, Additions, &c., By WALDO J. BURNETT, M. D. One vol., octavo, cloth, $3.00.
This is unquestionably the best and most complete work of its class ever yet published.
WORKS BY HUGH MILLER.
THE FOOTPRINTS OF THE CREATOR; THE OLD RED SANDSTONE; or New
or, The Asterolepis of Stromness. With  Walks in an Old Field. Illustrated with
Illustrations. Memoir of the Author by  Plates and Geological Sections. 12mo,
Louis AGAssIZ. 12mo, cloth, $1.00.      cloth, $1.00.
MY SCHOOLS and SCHOOLMASTERSFIRST IMPRESSIONS OF ENGLAND
or, The Story of my Education. With.ANITS PEOPLE. With a fine Enan elegant Likeness. 12mo, cloth, $1.25.  graving of the Author. 12mo, cl., $1.00.
A thrillingly interesting, and very instructive
This is a personal narrative of a deeply interest- book of travels; presenting the most perfectly lifeing and instructive character, concerning one of like views of England and its people, to be found
the most remarkable men of the age.    in the language.
DR. BUCELAND said, "He would give his left hand to possess such powers of description as this
man."
THE NATURAL HISTORY OF THE HUMAN SPECIES.
Its Typical Forms and Primeval Distribution. By CHARLES HAMILTON SMITH.
With an Introduction, containing an Abstract of the Views of Blumenbach,
Prichard, Bachman, Agassiz, and other writers of repute. By SAMUEL KNEELAND, Jr., M. D. With elegant Illustrations. 12mo, cloth, $1.25.
It is a book of learning, and full of interest, and may be regarded as among the comparatively few
real contributions to science. - [Christian Witness.                    (1)




ï~~VALUABLE WORKS PUBLISHED BY GOULD & LINCOLN, BOSTON.
THESAURUS OF ENGLISH WORDS AND PHRASES.
So classified and arranged as to facilitate the expression of ideas and assist in literary
composition. By PETER MARK ROGET. Revised and Edited, with a List of
Foreign Words Defined in English, and other additions, by BARNAS SEARS, D.D.,
President of Brown University. A New American, from         the late stereotype
London edition, with ADDITIONS AND IMPROVEMENTS. 12mo, cloth, $1.50.
This edition contains important additions of words and phrases NOT IN THE ENGLISH EDITION,
making it in all respects MORE FULL AND PERFECT THAN THE AUTHOR'S EDITION. The work
has already become one of standard authority, both in this country and in Great Britain.
THE ELEMENTS OF GEOLOGY.
Adapted to Schools and Colleges. With numerous Illustrations. By J. R. LooMis,
Lewisburg University, Pa. 12mo, cloth, 75 cts.
It is surpassed by no work before the American public. We hope that every teacher among our
readers will examine the work and put the justness of our remarks to the test of his judgment and
experience. - M. B. ANDERSON, LL. D. - [Pres. of Rochester University, N. Y.
This is just such a work as is needed for all our schools. It should take its place as a text-book in
all the schools of the land. - [N. Y. Observer.
THE EARTH AND MAN.
SBy Prof. ARNOLD GUYOT. With Illustrations. 12mo, cloth, $1.25.
INFLUENCE OF THE HISTORY OF SCIENCE UPON INTELLECTUAL EDUCATION.
By WILLIAM WHEWELL, D. D. 16mo, cloth, 25 cents.
PRINCIPLES OF ZOOLOGY.
With Illustrations. By Louis AGASSiz and AUGUSTUS A. GOULD. 12mo, cloth, $1.
This work places us in possession of information half a century in advance of all our elementary
works on this subject.-PROF. JAMES HALL.
A work emanating from so high a source hardly requires commendation to give it currency. Simple
and elementary in its style, full in its illustrations, comprehensive in its range. - [Silliman's Journal.
The best book of the kind in our language. - [Christian Examiner.
Zoology is an interesting science, and is here treated with a masterly hand. - [Scientific American.
THE LANDING AT CAPE ANNE;
Or The Charter of the First Permanent Colony on the Territory of the Massachusetts
Company. Now discovered and first published from the original manuscript. By
JOHN WINGATE THORNTON. Octavo, cloth, $1.50.
GEOLOGICAL MAP OF THE UNITED STATES AND BRITISH                  PROVINCES.
With an Explanatory Text, Geological Sections, and Plates of the Fossils which
characterize the Formations. By JULES MARCOU. Two volumes. Octavo, cloth,
$3.00.
z- The Map is elegantly colored, and done up with linen cloth back, and folded in octavo
form, with thick cloth covers.
KNOWLEDGE IS POWER.
A view of the Productive Forces of Modern Society, and the Results of Labor, Capital and Skill. By CHARLES KNIGHT. With numerous Illustrations. American
edition. Revised, with Additions, by DAVID A. WELLS, editor of the "Annual
of Scientific Discovery." 12mo, cloth, $1.25.
(2)




ï~~VALUABLE WORKS PUBLISHED BY GOULD & LINCOLN, BOTON.
CYCLOPEDIA OF ANECDOTES OF LITERATURE AND THE FINE ARTS.
A choice selection of Anecdotes of the various forms of Literature, of the Arts, of
Architecture, Engravings, Music, Poetry, Painting and Sculpture, and of the most
celebrated Literary Characters and Artists of different Countries and Ages &c.
By KAZLITT,ARVINE, A. M. With numerous Illustrations.          725 pages, octavo,
cloth, $3.00.
This is unquestionably the choicest collection of ANECDOTES ever published. It contains THREE
THOUSAND AND FORTY ANECDOTES, and more than ONE HUNDRED AND FIFTY ILLUSTRATIONS.
It is admirably adapted to literary and scientific men, to artists, mechanics, and others, as a DicTIONARY FOR REFERENCE, in relation to facts on the numberless subjects and characters introduced.
KITT0'S POPULAR CYCLOPEDIA OF BIBLICAL LITERATURE.
Condensed from the larger work, by the author, JoHN KITTO D. D. Assisted by
JAMES TAYLOR, D. D. With over 500 Illustrations. Octavo, 812 pp., cloth, $3.00.
This work answers the purpose of a commentary, while at the same time it furnishes a complete
DICTIONARY OF THE BIBLE, embodying the products of the best and most recent researches
in biblical literature, in which the scholars of Europe and America have been engaged. It is not
only intended for ministers and theological students, but is also particularly adapted to parents,
Sabbath-school teachers, and the great body of the religious public.
HISTORY OF PALESTINE.
With the Geography and Natural History of the Country, the Customs and Institutions of the Hebrews, etc. By JoHs KITTO, D. D. With upwards of 200 Illustrationpus. 12mo, cloth, $1.25.
Beyond all dispute this is the best historical compendium of the Holy Land, from the days of
Abraham to those of the late Pasha of Egypt, Mehemet All.- [Edinburgh Review.
tom- In the numerous notices and reviews, the work has been strongly recommended, as not only
admirably adapted to the FAMILY, but also as a text-book for SABBATH and WEEK DAY SCHOOLS.
CHAMBERS'S CYCLOPEDIA OF ENGLISH LITERATURE.
Two large imperial octavo volumes of 1400 pages; with upwards of 300 elegant Illustrations. By ROBERT CHAMBERS. Embossed cloth, $5.00.
This work embraces about oNJ THOUSAND AUTHORS, chronologically arranged and classed
as Poets, Historians, Dramatists, Philosophers, Metaphysicians, Divines, etc., with choice selections
from their writings, connected by a Biographical, Historical, and Critical Narrative; thus presenting
a complete view of English literature from the earliest to the present time. Let the reader open
where he will, he cannot fail to find matter for profit and delight. The selections are gems -
infinite riches in a little room; in the language of another, "A WHOLE EiGLISH LIBRARY FUSED
DOWN INTO ONE CHEAP BOOK "
CHIIAMBERS'S MISCELLANY OF USEFUL AND ENTERTAINING KNOWLEDGE.
By WILLIAM CHAMBERS. With Illustrations. Ten vols., 16Imo, cloth, $7.00.
CHAMBERS'S HOME BOOK AND POCKET MISCELLANY.
A choice Selection of Interesting and Instructive Reading for the Old and the Young.
Six vols. 16mo, cloth, $3.00.
This work is fully equal, if not superior, to either of the Chambers's other works in interest,
containing a vast fund of valuable information, furnishing ample variety for every class of readers.
CHAMBERS'S REPOSITORY OF INSTRUCTIVE AND AMUSING PAPERS.
With Illustrations. 16mo, cloth, bound, 4 vols. in two, $1.75; and 4 vols. in one, $1.50.
(3)




ï~~VALUABLE WORKS PUBLISHED BY GOULD & LINCOLN, BOSTON.
PLEASANT PAGES FOR YOUNG PEOPLE;
Or Book of Home Education and Entertainment.          By S. PROUT NEWCOMBE.
W'ith numerous Illustrations. 16mo, cloth, 75 cts.
Designed for the pleasure and profit of young people. The great variety of subjects presented,
consisting of Moral Lessons, Natural History, History, Travels, Physical Geography, Object Lessons,
Drawing and Perspective, Music, Poetry, &c., and withal, so skilfully treated as to make truth simple
and attractive, renders it as admirable family book for summer days and winter evenings.
YOUNG AMERICANS ABROAD;
Or, Vacation in Europe. A Tour through Great Britain, France, Holland Belgium,
Germany and Switzerland. By JoHN OVERTON CHOULES, D. D., and his Pupils.
SWith elegant Illustrations. 16mo, cloth, 75 cts.
This is a highly entertaining work, embracing more real information, such as every one wishes to
know about Europ.e, than any other book of travels ever published.
THE ISLAND HOME;
Or, the Young Castaways. By CHRISTOPHER ROMAUNT, Esq. With elegant Illustrations. 16mo, cloth, 75 cts.
A new and exceedingly captivating "Robinson Crusoe" story.
THE AMERICAN STATESMAN;
Or, Illustrations of the Life and Character of Daniel Webster; for the Entertainment
and Instruction of American Youth. By JOSEPH BANVARD, A. M. With numerous Illustrations. 16mo, cloth, 75 cts.
THE GUIDING STAR;
Or, the Bible God's Message. By LOUISA PAYSON HOPKINS. 16mo, cloth, 50 cts.
An exceedingly interesting and instructive work for youth, on the evidences of Christianity.
THE AIMWELL STORIES.
OSCAR; or, The Boy who had his own      CLINTON; or, Boy-Life in the Country.
Way. 16mo, cloth, gilt, 68 cts.          16mo, cloth, gilt, 63 cts.
ELLA; or, Turning Over a New Leaf. With Illustrations. 16mo, cloth, gilt, 63 cts.
e. The above volumes are uniform in size and style, and while each is intended to be complete
and independent of itself, the series will be connected by a partial identity of character, localities, &c.
AMERICAN HISTORIES, BY JOSEPH BANVARD, A. M.
PLYMOUTH AND THE PILGRIMS; ROMANCE OF AMERICAN HISTORY
or, Incidents of Adventure in the His-   or, an Account of the Early Settlement
tory of the First Settlers. With Illus-  of North Carolina and Virginia. With
trations. 16mo, cloth, 60 cts.          Illustrations. 16mo, cloth, 60 cts.
NOVELTIES OF THE NEW WORLD. TRAGIC SCENES in the History of
The Adventures and Discoveries of the   Maryland and the Old French War, with
First Explorers of North America. With  various interesting events occurring in
Illustrations. 16mo, cloth, 60 cts.     the early history of America.    With
Illustrations. 16mo, cloth, 60 cts.
WORKS BY THE REV. HARVEY NEWCOMB.
HOW TO BE A MAN. A Book for Boys; HOW          TO BE A LADY. A         Book for
containing useful Hints on the Forma-    Girls; containing useful Hints on the
tion of Character. Cloth, gilt, 50 cts.  Formation of Character. Cl., gilt, 50 cts.
ANECDOTES FOR BOYS. Entertaining ANECDOTES FOR GIRLS. EntertainAnecdotes and Narratives, illustrative  ing Anecdotes and Narratives, illustraof Principles and Character.    18mo,   tive of Principles and Character. 18mo,
cloth, git, 42 cts.                     cloth, gilt, 42 cts.
(4)




ï~~VALUABLE SCHOOL BOOKS.
THE ELEMENTS OF MORAL SCIENCE. By FRANCIS WAYLAND,
D. D., President of Brown University, and Professor of Moral Philosophy. Fiftieth
Thousand. 12mo, cloth. Price 1,25.
*** This work has been highly commended by Reviewers, Teachers, and others, and has
been adopted as a Class Book in most of the collegiate, theological, and academical institu.
tions of the country.
I have examined it with great satisfaction and interest. The work was greatly needed, and is well
executed. Dr. Wayland deserves the grateful acknowledgments and liberal patronage of the public.
I need say nothing further to express my high estimate of the work, than that we shall immediately
adopt it for a text book in our university. - REV.  ILBUR FISK, late Pres. of Wesleyan University.
The work has been read by me attentively and thoroughly, and I think very highly of it. The author himself is one of the most estimable of men, and I do not know of any ethical treatise in which
our duties to God and to our fellow-men are laid down with more precision, simplicity, clearness, energy, and truth. - HoN. JAMES KENT, late Chancellor of New York.
It is a radical mistake, in the education of youth, to permit any book to be used by students as a
text book, which contains erroneous doctrines, especially when these are fundamental, and tend to
vitiate the whole system of morals. We have been greatly pleased with the method which President
Wayland has adopted; he goes back to the simplest and most fundamental principles; and, in the
statement of his views, he unites perspicuity with conciseness and precision. In all the author's leading fundamental principles we entirely concur. - Biblical Repository.
This is a new work on morals, for academic use, and we welcome it with much satisfaction. It is
the result of several years' reflection and experience in teaching, on the part of its justly distinguished
author; and if it is not perfectly what we could wish, yet, in the most important respects, it supplies
a want which has been extensively felt. It is, we think, substantially sound in its fundamental principles; and, being comprehensive and elementary in its plan, and adapted to the purposes of instruction, it will be gladly adopted by those who have for a long time been dissatisfied with the existing
works of Paley.- Literary and Theological Review.
MORAL SCIENCE, ABRIDGED, by the Author, and adapted to the
Use of Schools and Academies. Thirty-fifth Thousand. 18mo, half cloth. Price 50 cts.
- The more effectually to meet the desire expressed for a cheap edition for schools, one
is now issued at the reduced price of 25 cents per copy! and it is hoped thereby to extend the
benefit ot moral instruction to all the youth of our land. Teachers, and all others engaged
in the training of youth, are invited to examine this work.
Dr. Wayland has published an abridgment of his work, for the use of schools. Of this step we can
hardly speak too highly. It is more than time that the study of moral philosophy should be introduced into all our institutions of education. We are happy to see the way so auspiciously opened
for such an introduction. It has been not merely abridged, but also rewritten. We cannot but regard
the labor as well bestowed. - North American Review.
We speak that we do know when we express our high estimate of Dr. Wayland's ability in teaching moral philosophy, whether orally or by the book. Having listened to his instructions in this department, we can attest how lofty are the principles, how exact and severe the argumentation, how
appropriate and strong the illustrations, which characterize his system. - Watchman and Reflector.
The work of which this volume is an abridgment, is well known as one of the best and most complete works on moral philosophy extant. The author is well known as one of the most profound
scholars of the age. That the study of moral science, a science which teaches goodness, should be a
branch of education, not only in our colleges, but in our schools and academies, we believe will not
be denied. The abridgment of this work seems to us admirably calculated for the purpose, and we
hope it will be extensively applied to the purposes for which it is intended. - Mercantile Journal.
We hail the abridgment as admirably adapted to supply the deficiency which has long been felt in
common school education-- the study of moral obligation. Let the child early be taught the relations it sustains to man and to its Maker, and who can foretell how many a sad and disastrous overthrow of character will be prevented, and how elevated and pure will be the sense of integrity and
virtue?- Evening Gazette.                                                         L




ï~~VALUABLE SCHOOL BOOKS.
ELEMENTS OF POLITICAL ECONOMY. By FRANCIS WAYLAND,
D. D., President of Brown University. Twenty-sixth thousand. 12no, cloth, 1,25.
ear This important work of Dr. Wayland's is fast taking the place of every other text book on the
subject of Political Economy in our colleges and higher schools in all parts of the country.
The author says, " his object has been to write a book which every one who chooses may understand. He has, therefore, labored to express the general principles in the plainest manner possible,
and to illustrate them by cases with which every person is familiar. It has been to the author a
source of regret, that the course of discussion in the following pages has, unavoidably, led him over
ground which has frequently been the arena of political controversy. In all such cases, he has endeavored to state what seemed to him to be truth, without fear, favor or affection. He is conscious to himself of no bias towards any party whatever, and he thinks that he who will read the whole work will
be convinced that he has been influenced by none." -- Extract from the Preface.
It embraces the soundest system of republican political economy of any treatise extant.-Advocate.
We can say, with safety, that the topics are well selected and arranged; that the author's name is a
guarantee for more than usual excellence. We wish it an extensive circulation.-. Y. Observer.
POLITICAL ECONOMY, ABRIDGED, by the Author, and adapted
to the use of Schools and Academies. Thirteenth thousand. 18mo, half morocco.
Price 50 cents.
*** The success which has attended the abridgment of " The Elements of Moral Science" has induced the author to prepare an abridgment of this work. In this case, as in
the other, the work has been entirely rewritten, and an attempt has been made to adapt it to
the attainments of youth.
The original work of the author, on Political Economy, has already been noticed on our pages; and
the present abridgment stands in no need of a recommendation from us. We may be permitted, however, to say, that both the rising and the risen generations are deeply indebted to Dr. Wayland for the
skill and power he has put forth to bring a highly important subject distinctly before them, within
such narrow limits. Though "abridged for the use of academies," it deserves to be introduced into
every private family, and to be studied by every man who has an interest in the wealth and prosperity of his country. It is a subject little understood, even practically, by thousands, and still less understood theoretically. It is to be hoped this will form a class book, and be faithfully studied in our
academies, and that it will find its way into every family library; not there to be shut up unread, but
to afford rich material for thought and discussion in the family circle. It is fitted to enlarge the mind,
to purify the judgment, to correct erroneous popular impressions, and assist every man in forming
opinions of public measures, which will abide the test of time and experience. -Puritan Recorder.
An abridgment of this clear, common-sense work, designed for the use of academies, is just published. We rejoice to see such treatises spreading among the people; and we urge all, who would be
intelligent freemen, to read them. -. IY. Transcript.
PALEY'S NATURAL THEOLOGY. Illustrated by forty Plates, and
Selections from the notes of Dr. Paxton, with additional Notes, original and selected, for
this edition; with a vocabulary of Scientific Terms. Edited by JOHN WARE, M. D.
New edition, with new and elegant Illustrations. 12mo, sheep, 1,25.
ear- This deservedly popular work has become almost universally introduced into all schools, academies, and colleges, where the subject is studied, throughout the country.
The work before us is one which deserves rather to be studied than merely read. Indeed, without
diligent attention and study, neither the excellences of it can be fully discovered, nor its advantages
realized. It is, therefore, gratifying to find it introduced, as a text book, into the colleges and literary
institutions of our country. The edition before us is superior to any we have seen, and, we believe,
superior to any that has yet been published.- Spirit of the Pilgrims.
Perhaps no one of our author's works gives greater satisfaction to all classes of readers, the young
and the old, the ignorant and the enlightened. Indeed, we recollect no book in which the arguments
for the existence and attributes of the Supreme Being, to be drawn from his works, are exhibited in a
manner more attractive and more convincing. - Christian Examiner.                 11




ï~~VALUABLE SCHOOL BOOKS.
BLAKE'S FIRST 13BOOK IN ASTRONOMY. Designed for the Use
of Academies and Schools. By J. L. BLAKE, D. D. With superb Illustrations on Steel.
8vo, cloth back, 50 cts.
I am much indebted to you for a copy of the First Book in Astronomy. It is a work of utility and
merit, far superior to any other which I have seen. The author has selected his topics with great
judgment, - arranged them in admirable order,- exhibited them in a style and manner at once tasteful and philosophical. Nothing seems wanting, - nothing redundant. It is truly a very beautiful
and attractive book, calculated to affolbrd both pleasure and profit to all who may enjoy the advantage
of perusing it. - E. IINCKLEY, Professor of Mathematics, Maryland University.
I know of no other work on astronomy so well calculated to interest and instruct young learners
in this sublime science.- B. FIELD, late Principal of the Hancock School, Boston.
I consider it decidedly superior to any elementary work of the kind I have ever seen.- JAMES F.
GOULD, A. M., Prin. of High School for Young Ladies, Baltimore, Md.
I have examined Blake's First.Book in Astronomy, and am much pleased with it. A very happy
selection of topics is presented in a manner which cannot fail to interest the learner, while the questions will assist him materially in fixing in the memory what ought to be retained. It leaves the most
intricate parts of the subject for those who are able to master them, and brings before the young pupil
only what can be made intelligible and interesting to him.- IsAAc FOSTER, Instructor of Youth,
Portland, Me.
The illustrations, both pictorial and verbal, are admirably intelligible; and the definitions are such
as to be easily comprehended by juvenile scholars. The author has interwoven with his scientific instructions muck interesting historical information, and has contrived to dress his philosophy in a garb
truly attractive. -. Y. Daily Evening Journal.
We are free to say that it is, in our opinion, decidedly the best work we have any knowledge of on
the sublime and interesting subject of astronomy. The knowledge imparted is, in language, at once
chaste, elegant, and simple - adapted to the comprehension of those for whom it was designed. We
only hope the circulation of the work will be commensurate with its merits. - Boston Evening Gaz.
We do not hesitate to recommend it to the notice of the superintending committees, teachers, and
pupils of our public schools. - State Herald, Portsmouth, N. H.
BLAKE'S NATURAL PHILOSOPHY. Being Conversations on Philosophy, with the addition of Explanatory Notes, Questions for Examination, and a
Dictionary of Philosophical Terms.   By J. L. BLAKE, D. D. With twenty-eight fine
Illustrations on Steel. 12mo, sheep, 67 cts.
** Perhaps no work has contributed so much as this to excite a fondness for the study
of Natural Philosophy in youthful minds. The familiar comparisons with which it abounds
awaken interest, and rivet the attention of the pupil.
I have been highly gratified with the perusal of your edition of Conversations on Natural Philosophy. The Questions, Notes, and Explanations of Terms, are valuable additions to the work, and
make this edition superior to any other with which I am acquainted. I shall recommend it wherever
I have an opportunity. - REV. J. ADAMS, President of Charleston College S. C.
We avail ourselves of the opportunity furnished us by the publication of a new edition of this deservedly popular work, to recommend it, not only to those instructors who may not already have
adopted it, but also generally to all readers who are desirous of obtaining information on the subjects
on which it treats. By questions arranged at the bottom of the pages, in which the collateral facts are
arranged, he directs the attention of the learner to the principal topics. Mr. Blake has also added
many notes, which illustrate the passages to which they are appended, and the Dictionary of Philo.
sophical Terms is a useful addition.- U. S. Literary Gazette.
THOUGHTS on the present Collegiate System in the United States. By
FRANCIs WAYLAND, D. D., Pres. Brown University. Price 50 cts.
"These Thoughts come from a source entitled to attention; and, as the author goes over the whole
ground of collegiate education, criticizing freely all the arrangements in every department, the book
is very full of matter. We hope it will prove the beginhing of a thorough discussion."  N




ï~~VALUABLE SCHOOL BOOKS
TIHE YOUNG LADIES' CLASS BOOK. A Selection of Lessons for
Reading, in Prose and Verse. By E. BAILEY, A. M., late Principal of the Young Ladies'
High School, Boston. 12mo, sheep, 83$ cts.
The united testimeny of the Principals of all the Boston Public Schoolsfor Females.
" We have examined the Young Ladies' Class Book with interest and pleasure: with interest, because
we have felt the want of a reading book expressly designed for the use of females; and with pleasure,
because we have found it well adapted to supply the deficiency. In the selections for a Reader designed for boys, the eloquence of the bar, the pulpit, and the forum may be laid under heavy contribution; but such selections, we conceive, are out of place in a book designed for females. We have
been pleased, therefore, to observe that in the Young Ladies' Class Book such pieces are rare. The
high-toned morality, the freedom from sectarianism, the taste, richness, and adaptation of the selections, added to the neatness of its external appearance, must commend it to all; while the practical
teacher will not fail to observe that diversity of style, together with those peculiar points, the want of
which few, who have not felt, know how to supply."
I have examined with much interest the Young Ladies' Class Book, by Mr. Bailey, and have been
very highly pleased with its contents. It is my intention to introduce it into my own school; as I regard it as not only remarkably well fitted to answer its particular object as a book of exercises in the
art of elocution, but as calculated to have an influence upon the character and conduct, which will
in every respect favorable.- JAcoB ABBoTT, late Prin. of Mount Vernon School, Boston.
We were never so struck with the importance of having reading books for female schools, adapted
particularly to that express purpose, as while looking over the pages of this selection. The eminent
success of the compiler in teaching this branch, to which we can personally bear testimony, is sufficient evidence of the character of the work, considered as a selection of lessons in elocution; they are,
in general, admirably adapted to cultivate the amiable and gentle traits of the female character, as well
as to elevate and improve the mind.- Annals of Education.
The reading books prepared for academic use are often unsuitable for females. We are glad, therefore, to perceive that an attempt has been made to supply the deficiency; and we believe that the task
has been faithfully and successfully accomplished. The selections are judicious and chaste, and, so
far as they have any moral bearing, appear to be unexceptionable. - Education Registe
ROMAN ANTIQUITIES AND ANCIENT MYTHOLOGY. By
CHARLES K. DILLAWAY, A. M., late principal in the Boston Latin School           Twelfth
edition, improved. 12mo, half mor., 67 cts.
Having used Dillaway's Roman Antiquities and Ancient Mythology in my school for several years,
I commend it to teachers with great confidence, as a valuable text book on those interesting branches
of education.-E. BAILEY, late Prin. of Young Ladies' High School, Boston.
The want of a cheap volume, embracing a succinct account of ancient customs, together with a view
of classical mythology, has long been felt. To the student of a language, some knowledge of the manners, habits, and religious feelings of the people whose language is studied, is indispensably requisite.
This knowledge is seldom to be obtained without tedious research and laborious investigation. Mr.
Dillaway's book seems to have been prepared with special reference to the wants of those who are just
entering upon a classical career; and we deem it but a simple act of justice to say that it supplies the
want which, as we have before said, has long been felt. In a small duodecimo, of about one hundred
and fifty pages, he concentrates the most valuable and interesting particulars relating to Roman antiquity; together with as full an account of heathen mythology as is generally needed in our highest
seminaries. A peculiar merit of this compilation, and one which will gain it admission into our highly
respectablefemale seminaries, is the total absence of all allusion, even the most remote, to the disgusting obscenities of ancient mythology; while, at the same time, nothing is omitted which a pure mind
would feel interested to know. We recommend the book as a valuable addition to the treatises in our
schools and academies. - Education Reporter, Boston.
We well remember, in the days of our pupilage, how unpopular as a study was the volume of Roman Antiquities introduced in the academic course. It wearied on account of its prolixity, filling a
thick octavo, and was the prescribed task each afternoon for a long three months. It was reserved for
one of our Boston instructors to apply the condensing apparatus to this mass of crudities, and so to
modernize the antiquities of the old Romans, as to make a befitting abridgment for schools of the first
order. Mr. Dillaway has presented such a compilation as must be interesting to lads, and become
popular as a text book. Historical facts are stated with great simplicity and clearness; the most important points are seized upon, while trifling peculiarities are passed unnoticed.- Am. Traveller.
0




ï~~[June 1st, 1856.

SUPPLEMENTARY CATALOGUE
OF
VALUABLE WORKS,
RECENTLY PUBLISHED.
THE CAMEL: His Organization, Habits and Uses, considered with reference to his Introduction into the United States. BY GEORGE P. MARSH, late U.
S. Minister at Constantinople. 16mo, cloth. 75 cents.
This book treats of a subject of great interest, especially at the present time. It furnishes a more
complete and reliable account of the Camel than any other in the language; indeed, it is believed
that there is no other. It is the result of long study, extensive research, and much personal observation on the part of the author; and it has been prepared with special reference to the experiment of
domesticating the Camel in this country, now going on under the auspices of the United States government. It is written in a style worthy of the distinguished author's reputation for great learning
and fine scholarship.
DR. GRANT AND THE MOUNTAIN NESTORIANS. BY REV.
THOMAS LAURIE. With a Portrait, Map of the Country, and Illustrations. 12mo,
cloth. Price $1.25. Third edition revised.
This edition has been thoroughly revised by the author, with the view of making the work scrupulously accurate. The map is the first correct one of the Nestorian country yet published. The work
itself is one of the most permanently valuable of its class, while it presents a full view of the life and
labors of the heroic missionary whose name it bears; it also makes the reader familiar with the striking features of a country which, both in ancient and modern times, has been memorable in history.
It embraces the scene of Xenophon's immortal Anabasis, the site of Nineveh, that mighty seat of
ancient civilization, and the cities of Kars and Erzerum, so recently the scene of deadly strife
between the Russians and the Allies.
ANALYTICAL CONCORDANCE TO THE HOLY SCRIPTURES;
Oa, THE BIBLE PRESENTED UNDER DISTINCT AND CLASSIFIED
HEADS OR TOPICS.
BY JOHN EADIE, D.D., LL. D.,
Author of "Biblical Cyclopedia," "Ecclesiastical Cyclopedia," "Early Oriental
History," "Dictionary of the Bible," etc. etc. One volume. Octavo. P. 836. (iN
PRESS.) The subjects are arranged as follows, viz.:
Agriculture,         Family,              Metals and Minerals, Sabbaths and Holy Days,
Animals,             Genealogy,           Ministers of Religion, Sacrifice,
Architecture,        God,                 Miracles,            Scriptures,
Army, Arms,          Heaven,              Occupations,         Speech,
Body,                Idolatry, Idols,     Ordinances,          Spirits,
Canaan,              Jesus Christ,       Parables and Emblems, Tabernacle and Temple,
Covenant,            Jews,               Persecution,          Vineyard and Orchard,
Diet and Dress,      Laws,                Praise and Prayer,  Visions and Dreams,
Disease and Death,   Magistrates,        Prophecy,            War,
Earth,               Man,                Providence,           Water.
Marriage,            Redemption,
The object of this Concordance is to present the entire Scriptures under certain classified and exhaustive heads. It differs from an ordinary Concordance, in that its arrangement depends not on
words, but on subjects, and the verses are printed in full. Its plan does not bring it at all into competition with such limited works as those of Gaston and Warden; for they select doctrinal topics
principally, and donot profess to comprehend, as we do, the entire Bible. The work also contains
a Synoptical Table of Contents of the whole work, presenting in brief a system of biblical antiquities
and theology, with a very copious and accurate index.
The value of this work to ministers and Sabbath school teachers can hardly be over-estimated;
and it needs but to be examined to secure the approval and patronage of every Bible student.




ï~~BARTON'S WORKS.
A NEW SYSTEM OF ENGLISH GRAMMAR. By W. S. BAiTOn,
A. M. 12mo, half Morocco. 75 cents.
This work is designed as a Text-book for the use of schools and academies. It is the result of long
experience, and will be found to possess many peculiar merits.
VIEWS OF EXPERIENCED TEACHERS.
FROM W. T. WALTHALL, A. M., SUP'T or SCHOOLS FOR CITY AND.COUNTY OF MOBILE.-"I
regard it as a decided improvement upon any work of the kind in use as a text-book in our schools,
with which I am acquainted."
FRO  S. S. SHERMAN, A. M., PRESIDENT OF THE JUDSON FEMALE INSTITUTE, MARION,
ALA. - "It is a valuable contribution to our elementary text-books."
FROM H. TALBIRD, D. D., PRESIDENT OF HOWARD COLLEGE, MARION, ALA.-"In my opinion, it will not only meet with general favor, but supplant every other work of the kind."
FROI Tuos. B. BAILY, A. M., PRIN. I. O. O. F. COLLEGIATE HIGH SCHOOL, COLUMIBUS,
MIss.-"Every one remembers the difficulties he encountered in the study of English Grammar.
Every teacher well knows the tedium of a recitation in that study. To the pupil it was dry, unintelligible and mysterious; to the teacher laborious in the extreme. Heretofore grammarians have produced confusion rather than order in the youthful mind. The very first lesson made him shudder
as his eyes ran over the jargon of technicalities.
" I am happy to state that Mr. Barton's New System of Grammar supplies the desideratum. Every
scholar and teacher should return him sincere thanks, for he has divested it in a great measure of its
hidden mystery. By his system, the pupil is gradually initiated into its principles-each lesson,
like a proposition in geometry, paves the way to the succeeding one, until, by a gradual and philosophical process, he is made to comprehend the whole science. Every rule and principle is illustrated
by numerous examples; some of these the pupil will parse, and others correct; these again are followed by appropriate exercises in CoMrOSITION. This last feature is a novel and valuable addition
to the usual mode of instruction. In thus applying what he has learned, the pupil is taught to WRITE
as well as to speak correctly. Having determined to adopt this Grammar in my own school, I would
recommend it to others."
"Our estimable and learned townsman, Rev. W. S. Barton, is at work in a masterly manner,
remodelling the school books of the day, and reducing them to the easy comprehension of the young,
thus placing it in the power of parents to witness the rapid and profitable advancement of their children, with less mental exertion to the pupil, and infinitely less labor to the teacher. God speed the
work in which he is engaged, and may a discerning public mete out to him more patronage than his
modest ambition relies upon, or anticipates."-ALABAMA WHIG.
"This work has met with general favor from teachers and professors, and bids fair to supplant
every other book of the kind."- AM. PUB. CIRCULAR.
"From an attentive examination of Prof. Barton's New System of English Grammar, we are convinced that his method combines a greater degree of simplicity, clearness and precision, than any
other treatise within our knowledge. In our opinion, he has rendered a dry, irksome study a pleasant
and agreeable recreation."
PRACTICAL EXERCISES IN ENGLISH COMPOSITION; on, THE
YOUNG COMPOSER'S GUIDE. By W. S. BARTON, A. MI. 12mo, half Morocco.
The work here presented, it is stated in the preface, is designed as a SEQUEL TO THE AUTHOR'S
NEw SYSTEM OF ENGLIsII GRAMMAR, which forms a gradual introduction to the first principles of
composition. The plan pursued in the tfbllowing exercises, as in the work mentioned, is founded
on the application of the principle of imitation. The pupil is conducted progressively from the
simplest expression of thought to the practice of connected composition.
The treatise will be found useful in assisting such as have only the opportunity of a "commonschool education," to express their ideas with taste and perspicuity; while to those having the advantage of a more general course of instruction, it will serve as a practical introduction to a critical study
of English literature.
Having laid down rules for the use of Capital Letters, Spelling and Pronunciation, with copious
examples for illustration, the author proceeds to the Structure of Sentences. These are classified,
and then each kind is analyzed. Under each section are given faulty or defective examples, which
the pupil is required to correct. It is in this practice, involving not only a familiarity with the rules,
but also the power of correctly applying them, that the pupil will find the great benefit of the work to
consist.
For young persons just beginning to practice the art of composition, as well as those more advanced
and somewhat accustomed to write, there is probably no one work that will be found in all respects
so serviceable as this.                                                        (s)




ï~~AMOS LAWRENCE.
DIARY AND CORRESPONDENCE OF THE LATE AMOS LAWRENCE; with a brief account of some Incidents in his Life. Edited by his son,
WILLIAM R. LAWRENCE, M. D. With fine steel Portraits of Atos and ABBOTT
LAWRENCE, an Engraving of their Birth-place, a Fac-simile page of Mr. Lawrence's Hand-writing and a copious Index. Octavo edition, cloth, $1.50. Royal
duodecimo edition, $1.00.
This work was first published in an elegant octavo volume, and sold at the unusually low price of $1.50. At the solicitation of numerous benevolent individuals who
were desirous of circulating the work-so remarkably adapted to do good, especially
to young men--gratuitously, and of giving those of moderate means, of every class, an
opportunity of possessing it, the royal duodecimo, or " cheap edition," was issued,
varying from the other edition, only in a reduction in the size (allowing less margin),
and the thickness of the paper.
Within six months after the first publication of this work, twenty-two thousand
copies had been sold. This extraordinary sale is to be accounted for by the character
of the man and the merits of the book. It is the memoir of a Boston merchant, who
became distinguished for his great wealth, but more distinguished for the manner in
which he used it. It is the memoir of a man, who, commencing business with only
$20, gave away in public and private charities, during his lifetime more, probably,
than any other person in America. It is substantially an autobiography, containing
a full account of Mr. Lawrence's career as a merchant, of his various multiplied charities, and of his domestic life.
"We have by us another work, the ' Life of Amos Lawrence.' We heard it once said in the pulpit,
'There is no work of art like a noble life,' and for that reason he who has achieved one, takes rank
with the great artists and becomes the world's property. WE ARE PROUD OF THIS BOOK. WE ARE
WILLING TO LET IT GO SORTH TO OTHER LANDS AS A SPECIMEN OF WHAT AMERICA CAN
PRODUCE. In the old world, reviewers have called Barnum THE characteristic American man. We
are willing enough to admit that he is A characteristic American man; he is ONE fruit of our soil,
but Amos Lawrence is another. Let our country have credit for him also. THE GOOD EFFECT
WHICH THIS LIFE MAY HAVE IN DETERMINING THE COURSE OF YOUNG MEN TO HONOR AND
VIRTUE IS INCALCULABLE."-MRS. STOWE, IN N. Y. INDEPENDENT.
"We are glad to know that our large business houses are purchasing copies of this work for each
of their numerous clerks. Its influence on young men cannot be otherwise than highly salutary.
As a business man, Mr. Lawrence was a pattern for the young clerk."-BosToN TRAVELLER.
" We are thankful for the volume before us. It carries us back to the farm-house of Mr. Law.
rence's birth, and the village store of his first apprenticeship. It exhibits a charity noble and active,
while the young merchant was still poor. And above all, it reveals to us a beautiful cluster of sister
graces, a keen sense of honor, integrity which never knew the shadow of suspicion, candor in the
estimate of character, filial piety, rigid fidelity in every domestic relation, and all these connected
with and flowing from steadfast religious principle, profound sentiments of devotion, and a vivid
realization of spiritual truth."-NORTH AMERICAN REVIEW.
"We are glad that American Biography has been enriched by such a contribution to its treasures.
In all that composes the career of 'the good man,' and the practical Christian, we have read few
memoirs more full of instruction, or richer in lessons of wisdom and virtue. We cordially unite in
the opinion that the publication of this memoir was a duty owed to society."-NATIONAL INTELLIGENCER.
" With the intention of placing it within the reach of a large number, the mere cost price is
charged, and a more beautifully printed volume, or one calculated to do more good, has not been
issued from the press of late years."-EvENING GAZETTE.
" This book, besides being of a different class from most biographies, has another peculiar charm.
It shows the inside life of the man. You have, as it were, a peep behind the curtain, and see Mr.
Lawrence as he went in and out among business men, as he appeared on 'change, as he received
his friends, as he poured out, ' with liberal hand and generous heart,' his wealth for the benefit
of others, as he received the greetings and salutations of children, and as he appeared in the bosom
of his family at his own hearth stone."-BRUNsWIcK TELEGRAPH.
"It is printed on new type, the best paper, and is illustrated by four beautiful plates. How it can
be sold for the price named is a marvel."-NORFOLK CO. JOURNAL.
"It was first privately printed, and a limited number of copies were distributed among the
relatives and near friends of the deceased. This volume was read with the deepest interest by those
who were so favored as to obtain a copy, and it passed from friend to friend as rapidly as it could be
read. Dr. Lawrence has yielded to the general wish, and made public the volume. It will now be
widely circulated, will certainly prove a standard work, and be read over and over again.",-BosTON DAILY ADVERTISER.
(p)




ï~~VALUABLE WORKS.
KNOWLEDGE IS POWER: A VIEW OF THE PRODUCTIVE FORCES OF
MODERN SOCIETY, and the Results df Labor, Capital, and Skill. By CHARLES
KNIGHT. American edition, with Additions, by DAVID A. WELLS, Editor of
" Annual of Scientific Discovery," etc.     With numerous Illustrations.       12mo,
cloth. $1.25.
This work is eminently entitled to be ranked in that class styled "books for the people." The author is one of the most popular writers of the day, and has particularly distinguished himself by
adapting his books to the masses. Sprung from the people himself, he knows their literary wants,
and he knows also how to address them. His style is easy and racy, sufficiently polished for the
most refined, while it is peculiarly fitted to captivate plain, unlettered, but thinking men. "Knowledge is Power" treats of those things which "come home to the business and bosoms" of every man,
which affect the wealth and welfare of both nations and individuals. It is remarkable for its fullness
and variety of information, and for the felicity and force with which the author applies his facts to
his reasoning. It is as instructive as many books on the same subject from learned men, and as
entertaining as it is instructive. The facts and illustrations are drawn from almost every branch of
skilful industry- iron-mongery, glass manufacture, pottery, cotton and woollen manufactures, hat
making, pin and needle making, printing, etc. It is a work, in short, which the mechanic and artisan of every description will be sure to read with a RELISH. To adapt it to this country, a portion
of the industrial, historical and statistical matter, wlineh was exclusively English and local, has been
replaced, by the American editor, with information of a like character drawn from American sources,
For similar reasons, many of the original engravings have been replaced by others.
MY SCHOOLS AND SCHOOLMASTERS; on, THE STORY OF MY
EDUCATION. By HUGH MILLER. author of "Old Red Sandstone," "Footprints
of the Creator," "My First Impressions of England," etc.      12mo, cloth. $1.25.
"This autobiography is quite worthy of the renowned author. His first attempts at literature,
and his career until he stood forth an acknowledged power among the philosophers and ecclesiastical leaders of his native land, are given without egotism, with a power and vivacity which are
equally truthful and delightsome."-PRESBYTERIAN.
" Hugh Miller is one of the most remarkable men of the age. Having risen from the humble walks
of life, and from the employment of a stone-cutter, to the highest rank among scientific men, everything relating to his history possesses an interest which belongs to that of few living men. There is
much even in his school-boy days which points to the man as he now is. The book has all the ease
and graphic power which is characteristic of his writings."-NEW YORK OBSERVER.
" This volume is a book for the ten thousand. It is embellished with an admirable likeness of
Hugh Miller, the stone mason - his coat off and his sleeves rolled up-with the implements of labor
in hand - his form erect, and his eye bright and piercing. The biography of such a man will interest
every reader. It is a living thing-teaching a lesson of self-culture of immense value."-PHILADELPHIA CHRISTIAN OBSERVER.
" It is a portion of autobiography exquisitely told. He is a living proof that a single man may
contain within himself something more than all the books in the world, some unuttered word, if he
will look within and read. This is one of the best books we have had of late, and must have a
hearty welcome and a large circulation in America."- LoNDoN CORRESP. N. Y. TRIBUNE.
" It is a work of rare interest; at times having the facination of a romance, and again suggesting
the profoundest views of education and of science. The ex-mason holds a graphic pen; a quiet
humor runs through his pages; he tells a story well, and some of his pictures of home life might
almost be classed with Wilson's."-NEW YORK INDEPENDENT.
" This autobiography is THE book for poor boys, and others who are struggling with poverty and
limited advantages; and perhaps it is not too much to predict that in a few years it will become one
of the poor man's classics, filling a space on his scanty shelf next to the Autobiography of Franklin."-NEw ENGLAND FARMER.
" Lovers of the romantic should not neglect the book, as it contains a narrative of tender passion
and.happily reciprocated affection, which will be read with subdued emotion and unfailing interest."
- BoSTox TRAVELLER.
THE HALLIG; OR, THE SHEEPFOLD IN THE WATERS. A Tale of
Humble Life on the Coast of Schleswig. Translated from the German of Biernatzski, by Mrs. GEORGE P. MARSH.         With a Biographical Sketch of the Author.
12mo, cloth. $1.00
The author of this work was the grand-son of an exiled Polish nobleman. His own portrait is
understood to be drawn in one of the characters of the Tale, and indeed the whole work has a substantial foundation in fact. In Germany it has passed through several editions, and is there regarded
as the chef d'oeuvre of the author. As a revelation of an entire new phase of human society, it will
strongly remind the reader of Miss Bremer's tales. In originality and brilliancy of imagination, it
is not inferior to those; - its aim is far higher. The elegance of Mrs. Marsh's translation will at once
arrest the attention of every competentjudge.